Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian
by Wujjawoo
Summary: Harry becomes a vampire and in doing so sets out on the path to fulfilling a second prophecy that carries far darker consequences than the first. Secrets, lies and changing alliances force Harry to trust those he never wanted to. Snape backstory. HarryOC.
1. of Prophecies and Promises

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'adian**

**Chapter 1**

**Of Prophecies and Promises**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

A/N: This takes place after Order of The Phoenix. I must stress to any who have read _Harry Potter and the Soul of the Serpent_ that the character of Katherine is _not the same_. Similar, but not the same. Now read, review, and enjoy!

WARNING: MINOR HALF-BLOOD PRINCE SPOILERS!

**oOoOo**

"Please, take a seat, Severus."

Severus Snape glared disdainfully at the bright pink chair and settled slowly into it.

"I do not know why you insisted on meeting here, of all places, Albus."

Dumbledore inclined his head.

"I was under the impression you lived near here," he said.

"I do, but surely a muggle café…you have not forgotten how to apparate?"

"I would sincerely hope not, Severus. No, the reason I invited you here tonight was so we would have a certain amount of privacy. I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you."

Severus immediately dropped his look of aggrieved inconvenience. He knew he would not have requested this meeting for no reason. He nodded.

"Very well. I suppose now would be the best time to tell me of any news you have, as you know I am travelling to Italy later in the holidays."

Dumbledore inclined his head again; the action irritated Snape.

"I am aware of that. But I am afraid the matter of which I must speak to you is of great importance. It may mean the difference between us winning or losing this war."

"Indeed? And what is it that is so important?" Snape asked. He hated Dumbledore's round-about way of speaking. But he was in luck. It seemed this was the question that Dumbledore had been waiting for him to ask.

"Ah, Severus, I am glad you asked that, very glad indeed. I am in great need of your opinion and expertise. You see, it is quite a tale, and it begins with a night over fifteen years ago. You remember, of course, this night?"

"Of which night do you speak?" Severus asked, face paling.

"Do you recall the night on which I learned of a prophecy, one that has greatly changed the course of events in the life of a certain boy?"

Severus sneered.

"I do, Albus, though I fail to see why that is of any importance in the present."

"Oh, but it is everything, Severus. Have you not wondered why I kept Sybil Trelawney in my employ for so long?"

Severus sat up straighter, suddenly intrigued.

"She has made another?" he asked, clasping his hands under his chin.

Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"She has."

"To you."

Again the reply was a nod.

"Though it is unfortunate, what she had to tell of the future."

"In what way?" Severus asked, eager for information.

"I shall show you. Please wait a moment."

With a swift movement, Dumbledore withdrew his wand from his pocket and cast a subtle charm over the two of them, and as Severus had experienced so many times before, the glances of the muggles in the small café slid straight over them.

Another charm, and the salt shaker on the table was returned to its' original form. Severus stared down into the swirling contents of the Pensieve.

Dumbledore prodded the silvery contents, and the ghost of a memory rose up from the surface. Snape sneered at the reams of glittering jewels hanging off of the small woman with the magnified eyes, but the expression dropped from his face as she began to speak. Her voice was harsh and loud, and Snape stared at her in concentration.

"_In twelve days hence, on the eve of the new month, he will be born…As the seventh month dies…the world will welcome a new power…"_

Snape frowned as she halted, her words interrupted by another, softer sound that issued from her mouth, as though she were breathing out of her mouth.

"_He will be born…to renew the power of the fallen one…return him to his rightful strength…"_

Her voice faded away, and Snape looked up enquiringly, but his question was halted with a raised hand. Seconds later, the harsh breathing sound resumed, and again she began to speak.

"_He will return…the Dark Lord…to his power…"_

She paused once more and the sound of her breathing rose almost to a hiss, before she resumed for the final time.

"_Twelve nights hence…he will be born…and he will be of V'Ardian…"_

Snape looked up sharply at these words, and Dumbledore looked pleased at his reaction as the figure slowly lowered into the swirling silvery mass. Dumbledore leaned forward and rested his chin on his steepled fingers, his stare penetrating Severus.

"You recognise the name then," he said, and it was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, I do."

"Then you would agree that this is not the best position for us to be in?"

Snape considered the question. There were so many questions that were left unanswered. He chose his words carefully when he replied.

"I admit that this is…an inconvenience, if you will. It will certainly delay our victory, though I cannot say by how much. Tell me, if a prophecy is made, must it be fulfilled?"

Dumbledore nodded again, and he looked old and weary.

"It is regretfully that I must say yes," he responded, bowing his head.

"Then I begin to lose hope already," Snape said, scowling.

"I will tell you again, Severus, that you must have more faith in him," Dumbledore said, a hint of warning evident in his calm voice.

"The boy can barely brew a simple sleeping potion, Albus! You expect him to defeat the Dark Lord _after_ he is returned to his full power? I for one am extremely sceptical."

"I fully trust that, when the time comes, he will succeed."

Snape's scowl deepened.

"Will you tell him? Hie protection will no longer be in place after his sixteenth birthday. It may be something he needs to know."

Dumbledore was silent, seemingly pondering the issue.

"When the time comes, I will. He needs to be aware that there is more than one person wishing for his blood. However, we shall leave him with a little more childhood."

Snape gave a cynical chuckle.

"I don't believe he has had much of that for a while, Albus."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in reply.

"My dear Severus, is it possible you are actually feeling some compassion for him?"

Snape rolled his eyes.

"I was merely pointing out that, although he has the IQ of a five year old, he has the experience of a much older wizard. I highly doubt the prophecy will come as anything of a revelation."

"It is strange that you say that, Severus. You know that he is connected to Voldemort. Do you think he will know there is someone else?"

Snape shrugged.

"I have no desire to think about the way Potter's mind works. I can only hope he is not as hopeless as he appears to be."

Dumbledore sighed.

"Very well. I respect your opinion, Severus, even if I do not agree with it. But the hour is growing late, and we must move on to other matters. I must know if Voldemort becomes aware of this person. But I think it would also be to our advantage if he knows that I am also aware of it. You may give him the basic details. I believe I can trust you on this?"

"Certainly, Albus. I will find out anything I can. In the mean time, I shall require the necessary items for my trip, if that can be arranged."

Dumbledore smiled.

"It will be ready for Monday," he said, as Severus rose from his seat. "And I trust you will look into this for me?"

Snape gave a curt nod and turned to leave, but Dumbledore spoke once more.

"I will tell you now, Severus, that the time may come when you will have to prove your allegiance one way or the other. I ask you now not to hesitate when that time comes. Though it may not be the easiest, or seem the wisest, I know you will make the right decision."

Snape looked at him searchingly, before turning and striding back out into the cold muggle street, cloak swirling behind him.

**oOoOo**

It was just as he was relaxing that the brisk knock sounded on his front door. It was not the loudness of the knock that startled him, but the fact that in the whole time he had lived in the small, shabby apartment in the middle of Surrey, he had never had so much as one visitor. It was for this reason that he approached the door cautiously, his wand tight in his hand.

Severus Snape took pride in the fact that he was a man not easily surprised by anything, so when he opened the door to find two dishevelled Death Eaters on his doorstep, he morphed his face into a small smile before greeting them.

"Narcissa- Bellatrix. What a lovely surprise!"

"Rubbish!" Bellatrix spat, before pushing past Snape into his house. "How you could live in a dump like this, Snape, I will never understand."

"And I do not expect you to," said Snape, turning. His eyes followed her as she stalked into the living room and spun around, eyeing the small area with disgust. Snape turned back to the other sister still outside.

"Narcissa, please come in. It is unwise to linger on doorsteps too long these days."

She nodded and silently moved passed him, and he looked into the deserted street before closing the door. He ushered the two women into the living area and offered them seats on the decrepit-looking lounge.

Bellatrix sat with a grimace, but Narcissa stayed standing and turned to face Snape.

"Severus, this is no social call," she said, pulling back her hood. Snape saw that her eyes were wild, troubled, and her blond hair was escaping its bun.

"I gathered as much," he replied, casting a glance at the sour face of Narcissa's dark-haired sister. "What have you come here for?"

"I need your help, Severus! Surely you have heard-"

She was cut off by the angry voice of Bellatrix.

"We should not be here," she snarled. "If our master knew…"

"Bella, please, if you are not going to help be then be silent or leave!"

Bellatrix scowled at her sister but remained silent, except for one remark.

"I don't know why you're even asking _him_, he's not trustworthy."

Snape cast a disdainful look at her before turning his attention to Narcissa.

"Please, go on," he gestured.

"Draco is in trouble!" Narcissa said in a rush. "I need you to help him. If you do not, I know he will fail, and then he will die. I can't bear to lose him, Severus! He is my only son, and with Lucius in jail…"

Snape turned and walked to the window.

"Your sister is right, Narcissa. If the Dark Lord knew…you are betraying his trust."

Narcissa gasped and ran up to him, pulling him around to face her.

"You won't tell, will you? You can't!"

"It is lucky," Snape said loudly, speaking over her, "that I already know of the plan, otherwise you would be in a severe breach of the trust that the Dark Lord holds in you."

"You know?" Narcissa whispered, her voice hushed. Bellatrix looked as if she were about to speak, but refrained from making the insulting comment Snape had been sure was about to come out of her mouth.

"He told you?"

"Yes. As it happens, I am fully aware of his plans for Draco, and I can understand your reluctance for him to take this task."

"He has done it as revenge for Lucius' mistake at the Ministry, I know it! It isn't his fault."

"Be that as it may, this is Draco's task, and he must complete it. he has no choice."

Narcissa looked close to tears.

"But you can help him!" she said desperately, begging.

"Very well. I will guide him if he asks for guidance, and I will help him if he requests it, but I can do no more."

Relief was etched into Narcissa's features.

"Will you make the Unbreakable Vow?" she asked breathlessly.

Snape hesitated for only a second as Bellatrix's face registered a look of shock.

"I will. Perhaps Bellatrix will consent to be our Bonder?" he asked, looking over at her. She stood and made her way slowly over to the pair, who clasped their right hands together. Bellatrix touched her wand tip to them and Narcissa began to speak.

"Do you, Severus Snape, consent to look over my son, Draco Malfoy, and ensure that he comes to no harm?"

"I will," Snape intoned.

"Will you ensure that he does his best to complete this task, and aid him if the need arises?"

"I will."

"And, should he fail, will you complete the task for him?"

Snape hesitated for only a second before murmuring his reply.

"I will."

**oOoOo**

**Chapter Two: Of Isolation and Immortals**


	2. Of Isolation and Immortals

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'adian**

**Chapter 2**

**Of Isolation and Immortals**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Harry Potter hated the holidays. He knew, now, why he had to return to this wretched hell hole in the middle of Surrey, but it was nonetheless an arduous time. And now, after endless promises that he would be spending only a short time in Privet Drive, they were making him stay until three weeks before the new school term began. He pounded his fist into the wall in anger.

Letters from his friends were few and far between, information scarce. He knew they were at Grimmauld Place. It angered him that he was being left out of something that was so clearly and undeniably in his future. He had to know things, but they refused to tell him.

It was his birthday tomorrow, and although he desperately wanted to leave his aunt and uncle's house, he had little desire to return to Grimmauld Place so soon. Sometimes when he lay in bed at night, he remembered what had happened in the Department of Mysteries, and felt sick with guilt.

He had played with his quill for a few minutes, trying to tempt his mind onto something else, but no matter how hard he tried, his mind drifted back to the events in the ministry. No matter how many times they had told him it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help feeling that he could have done more. He could have saved Tonks and Remus from heartache. But he didn't want to think about that. From the vague hints he had picked up in the letters from his friends, he understood that Remus and Tonks were getting on _extremely_ well.

Good for them, he thought sarcastically. At least they had someone to comfort them. He punched the wall again, succeeding (with some stilted satisfaction) to elicit an enraged yell from his uncle, and a very sore hand.

Harry felt an indefinable sense of frustration and anger at his situation. Guilt plagued him constantly, and at the Dursley residence there was certainly nothing to get his mind of the death of his god-father.

Suddenly something someone had said to him once jumped into his mind.

"_You've got no skill, Potter. You've survived on pure luck."_

And it was true, he knew it was. If he'd been able to think more clearly, if he hadn't panicked, if he had known more spells, he could have saved more than his own life that night.

Harry sighed and looked over to the dresser in the corner, atop which was piled his collection of Daily Profits. As usual, someone, most likely Dumbledore, felt the need for him to not know anything, and as a result, his subscription had been a blessing. Various headlines peered out at him, taunting him with the memory of their words: _Mass Breakout From Azkaban_ (It enraged Harry that there were monsters like Malfoy and other Death Eaters running around free, because of the stupidity of the ministry, but the next article gave him some consolation), _Garian Numair New Minister For Magic_ (Maybe, thought Harry, a new Minister would help stop the killing sprees that the Death Eaters were now frequently enjoying), _Harry Potter, Chosen One? _(This article, and many like it, were the ones that particularly annoyed Harry. One, released just after the holidays had begun, told, with quite inaccurate but nevertheless disturbing details, of the escapade in the ministry, even going so far as to report the existence of the prophecy. He had received questions from both Ron and Hermione about the prophecy, but had refused to answer), and _24 Muggles Murdered in London_.

Harry sighed and walked over to the window. He felt useless, stuck here in Little Whinging, and angry that he should even be here at all. He started as the silence of the Dursley household was broken by a sudden thump, as an owl ploughed head-on into his window. Hurriedly, he slid the window up and the disgruntled-looking owl perched on the sill and ruffled its feathers, looking distinctly haughty as it sat there with its' beak in the air.

He untied the tightly furled scroll from its leg and read it in surprise. It was from Dumbledore and, like all his other letters, the lack of information frustrated him.

_Harry, _

_I will be arriving at your place of residence this evening at eleven o'clock this evening to collect you. Be sure to pack everything. _

_Professor Dumbledore. _

Odd, thought Harry, but he wasn't complaining. Dumbledore had never sent him a letter before, nor had he ever come to Privet Drive, and Harry wondered if something had gone wrong. Abruptly he turned from the window and began throwing his things into his bag. It was a short task, and he was done within minutes, and he ventured downstairs to inform his Aunt and Uncle of his impending departure.

He knew they would be delighted, even if they didn't show it. For the past few weeks they had seemed as though they couldn't stand the sight of him, and as though they were eagerly awaiting his day of departure.

He found them, as he had known he would, in the lounge room, watching the midday movie. Harry was banned from these, and honestly couldn't have been happier with the situation. He had long ago accepted that they didn't want him around and learnt to stay in his room, and now he appreciated their lack of emotion or familiar love towards him. It made his life so much easier.

He waited until a break came on before approaching them.

"Uncle Vernon?"

"What?" his Uncle barked, his eyes not leaving the television.

"Uh, I'm leaving tonight. Someone's coming to get me."

At this, their head's snapped around and they looked at him.

Nonplussed, Harry asked, "what?"

His Uncle coughed and averted his eyes.

"They're coming to the house, then?"

"Yes, but don't worry, they're coming late, so no one will see them."

"Good," snapped Aunt Petunia, before turning her head back to the television screen. The movie had started again.

"Er, well I'll just go and finish packing," Harry said. Uncle Vernon grunted in reply and Harry turned and made his way back up the stairs to his room. The moment he reached his room, he looked out the window, and felt an overwhelming urge to go outside.

He had had little desire to venture out this summer; he knew he was being tailed by an Auror, and the thought of being followed gave little peace. However, he had his invisibility cloak, and he pulled it over himself before stepping out the back door.

It was just before sunset, and a glance at his watch told Harry that the Dursley's would be sitting down for dinner in precisely fifty-six minutes, and Dumbledore would be arriving in just over four and a half hours. Happy to be out of the oppressive atmosphere of the Dursley residence, he set off down the street, unobtrusively towards the park. It was only a few blocks away, and was a place Harry had gone to many times. He no longer had to worry about Dudley and his gang, and this only made the green park a more appealing place.

The residents of Little Whinging rarely brought their children here and, as Harry expected, the area was devoid of others. Once the sun was safely under the horizon, Harry pulled the cloak off, but still stayed to edges of the park, in the shadows. The sky was beautiful tonight, but it too, held no peace for him. High in the sky, Mars burned brightly, and he could imagine what Firenze would say.

Mars, harbinger of doom and death, herald of war. Mars, whose presence guided Harry's life, shone brighter than ever. He looked to the ground and saw, in the dim shadows, a bushy shrub, its white flowers giving off an intoxicating scent. It was strong, but as he watched, the flowers began to close, and then shrivel, their colour crumbling to a dull brown, decaying as he watched.

He felt shivers run up his spine. Flowers didn't normally do that. A stick crunched on the ground and he spun around, searching for his wand. He plunged his hand into his pocket, but as fast as he was, someone else was faster. Hands grabbed him from behind, securing his arms behind his back. A second later an odd feeling came over him, and he hung limp in his captor's arms. He tried to move, but his muscles wouldn't respond.

Suddenly, he heard someone talk, and he deduced that there must be two of them.

"Hurry up!" said the one that wasn't holding him. He had a weak voice, and his whining did nothing to elicit a response from the one holding Harry. He pulled Harry upright and suddenly grabbed the top of Harry's head, forcing it sideways onto his neck. The muscles in his neck protested and he stifled a grunt of pain. He remembered what he had promised himself only minutes ago, and cleared his mind. He had to think clearly.

But it was hard. His mind didn't want to obey his commands, and his thoughts were all fuzzy, filtering slowly through his panic.

"Just do it, Isautier, and give him to me. I'm tired." It was the whining one again.

The one holding Harry spoke.

"Patience, Horace, we have all evening to enjoy this."

"You, maybe, but we haven't been allowed out in so long! I don't wanna to waste all our time here. We gotta be back by sunrise."

"I know," hissed Isautier, a hand running over Harry's neck "But unlike you, I have needs."

"I need it as well!" whined Horace, "So just hurry up."

"You forget your place!" Isautier hissed.

A frightened squeak came from Horace.

"Apologies, my Lord. I did not mean…"

"Silence! I tire of your whining!"

An obedient hush followed, and a second later Harry felt a breath on his neck. A moment after that, a sharp pain pierced his neck, and Harry felt a strange sensation crawling up his neck. It lasted for only a split second however, as the person holding him let go of him, and he fell to the ground, released from the paralysis. The man hissed.

"Isautier? What is it?" asked Horace, as Harry stumbled to his feet and away from the men, hand to his neck.

"He has magic," Isautier said in a low voice.

"What? But… there's only humans round here, only Muggles!"

Harry raised his head and looked into the darkness. He couldn't see them, but they could obviously see him, as Isautier let out a breath.

"It is him! It is the Potter boy!"

"It can't be, Isautier! We was told there weren't no wizards in this area."

"We must leave. Come, Horace."

"Will he Turn?" Horace asked.

"I do not know…it may not have been long enough."

"We should help him," Horace suggested.

"We must leave!" snapped Isautier, and a moment later there was a whooshing sound, a rushing of breeze, and silence.

Harry looked around in shock. the attack had been so quick, so unexpected. He looked down at his hand and saw that it was dark with blood. Slowly he pulled the cloak back over himself and hurried back to the Dursley's. When he opened the back door, the only noise in the house was the television, and Harry was thankful they couldn't see him. He jumped over the creaking stair and walked to the bathroom, flicking the light on.

It wasn't as bad as he expected. Blood flowed sluggishly from the two pin-prick like wounds on his neck, and he supposed there was some sort of venom to keep the blood flowing smoothly. Anger bubbled up within him, with nowhere to direct it. He sponged the blood away and watched as it swirled down the plug hole, turning the water pink. His hands gripped the edge of the cabinet, his knuckles turning white.

After a while he pulled away, not looking into the mirror. He turned the shower on and rinsed away the sweat and dirt, before falling into his bed, dizzy and sick. Sleep came quickly, and his last thought floated through his mind.

_Why me? Happy birthday, Harry. _

**oOoOo**

As Harry slept, he dreamed. He dreamed of vampires and of Voldemort, of Cedric and of Sirius. He dreamed of the day to come, when he would have to face his destiny, and kill or be killed. He dreamed of tomorrow, when reality would become part of waking, or when he might wake and find it had all been a great big delusion. Hallucinations were better than reality. Hallucinations could be happy, could be whatever you made them, because reality was not happy, not for Harry Potter. His life could not be whatever he made it to be, because from the moment he was born, he was fated.

He was fated to know vampires and Voldemort, to be the cause of the deaths of Cedric, and of Sirius.

And so it went, round and round, a great, jumbled mass of swirling, semi-formed thoughts, of missed chances and frustrated feelings, and it all formed to create an image of the world as seen by the nearly-sixteen year old boy who dreamed them…

**oOoOo**

Harry jerked awake and glanced at his watch in horror. He was relieved to see it was still evening, and he hadn't missed Dumbledore. He tried to calm his racing heart, but it wouldn't slow. He felt hot, and dizzy. He walked to the mirror, praying that it had all been a dream, but there, just below his ear and three centimetres apart, were two small, red dots.

He pulled on a shirt with a high collar and a pair of jeans that were too big for him and dragged his trunk into the hall. He was just about to return to his room, when the doorbell rang.

**oOoOo**

**Chapter 3: Of Promises and Pain**


	3. Of Promises and Pain

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'adian**

**Chapter 3**

**Of Promises and Pain**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Before Harry could get to the door, Uncle Vernon appeared in front of it, looking anxious and, Harry thought, excited. It seemed odd that he would be excited about a wizard appearing on his doorstep at eleven o'clock in the evening, but as Harry could see it with his own eyes, he couldn't very well deny it.

His uncle's piggy little eyes darted from the door to Harry and he sneered.

"Into the lounge room, boy!"

"But-"

"I said go!" Uncle Vernon sneered, and with a last, curious look at the door, Harry entered the lounge to see Aunt Petunia sitting in front of Dudley as though to shield him, but looking, nonetheless, just as excited as her husband. Her thin neck craned around Harry, trying to see into the hall, and she snapped at him to move and stand in the corner.

Harry heard the door open and Uncle Vernon, though rather unkindly, greeted someone who Harry assumed to be Dumbledore. His guess was proven correct as the long silver beard preceded the man himself, into the room, closely followed by a large belly and the rest of his scowling Uncle.

Harry became worried, however, when he saw Dumbledore's sombre expression.

"Good evening, Harry," he said quietly, as Uncle Vernon sat down next to Dudley. Harry glanced at his three relatives sitting side by side and looking impatiently at Dumbledore and wondered again what was going on. Wasn't Dumbledore just here to collect him?

"Hello, Professor," he replied, as the aged man sat on a chair across from the Dursley's, reclining as though quite relaxed. Uncle Vernon glared at the wizard, but Dumbledore merely turned to Harry again.

"Are you packed, Harry?"

"Yes, Professor."

"All of your things?"

"Yes," said Harry, frowning. Why was this so important? "Well, I mean there are some things of mine that I leave here during the year, but apart from that…" Harry trailed off as he saw Dumbledore about to speak.

"Are they of any particular importance? Anything you will miss?"

"No. Sir, what's going on? Why do I need all of my things?"

"I am afraid, Harry," began Dumbledore softly, "that you will not be returning to Privet Drive again."

Harry stared at him, dumbstruck.

"But- you said…" he said hoarsely, his voice not working properly.

"I know what I said, Harry, but please do not argue. It is for the best."

"What do you mean?" he asked, beginning to get angry. He looked at his relatives and was surprised to see Aunt Petunia with a thin, tight-lipped smirk on her face.

"Can we just hurry up?" she snapped. "I don't want this to go for any longer than necessary."

Harry was confused now, and desperately wanted some answers. He looked to Dumbledore, about to speak, but stopped when he saw the look on the old man's face. He seemed weary, and sad, as he sighed and looked at Harry.

"Take a seat, Harry," he said, drawing a comfortable chintz armchair out of thin air, "there are things we need to discuss."

Slowly Harry took a seat, sinking into the layers of cushions. He pushed out of them and sat on the edge, back rigid. It was uncomfortable, but he was irritated at the lack of information. What necessitated a sit-down conversation between the Dursley's and Dumbledore, and a civil one at that?

He looked enquiringly from his smirking Aunt and Uncle, to his confused-looking cousin, to Dumbledore, who then began speaking.

"If, at any time, you feel the need to leave, Professor Snape will be waiting outside to take you to Grimmauld Place. He does not know why I am here."

"Why are you here? Sir?"

"The boy doesn't have to know!" Uncle Vernon snarled. "Just get it over with!"

Dumbledore nodded slightly.

"Very well. We must leave before midnight in any case."

Harry glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearing half past eleven.

"Well, sir? What's going on?"

"In a minute, Harry. I must deal with your relatives first."

Dumbledore turned too look at the Dursley's again, and they waited expectantly.

"You remember, of course, the terms of our deal." It was not a question, and the Dursley's did not reply.

Harry desperately wanted to ask what the deal was, but a glance from Dumbledore and a raised hand from Dumbledore told him to keep his silence.

"When I brought Harry here, I left you a letter, explaining what was to happen, and why. I asked that you look after Harry, treat him as your own, and show him love. You did not do that."

Uncle Vernon turned an ugly shade of puce and sneered.

"Now see here! We did everything for that selfish brat, and we got nothing in return. We clothed him and fed him-"

"And treated him with hatred, and often cruelty. He knew nothing but animosity here, though I do not know to what extent."

"But we took him in! We looked after him!" Aunt Petunia screeched, almost desperately, but stilled when Dumbledore again raised his hand.

"Nevertheless, as you have just said, you did indeed, however grudgingly and ungraciously, accept him into your home."

"So you'll still do it?"

"If it is what you truly wish," replied Dumbledore.

Aunt Petunia nodded sharply.

"It's exactly what we want. And it will be like you said? We won't remember him," she said, stabbing a manicured finger at Harry, "and we won't remember Lily or James, or m-magic?"

Harry paled and felt an odd swooping sensation in his stomach, as though he had missed a step going down stairs, when he heard Dumbledore's reply.

"No."

Harry's heart skipped a beat and he felt dizzy, shocked. A sense of sadness hit him as he understood, and he stood up.

"Well, see you then," he said and, ignoring the call from Dumbledore, left the room.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not realised, many years ago, that there must have been a catch, must have been some ulterior motive for keeping him?

Trembling with anger and sadness, he grabbed the handle of his trunk and thrust open the front door wondering, did they really hate him that much?

**oOoOo**

Severus Snape stood waiting in one of the foulest places he could ever wish to stand. It was not foul in itself of course, except for the fact that it was a muggle home, and the one where that insufferable brat, Potter, had grown up. And now, for an unknown reason that Albus Dumbledore was not polite enough to divulge to him, he had to come here to collect the spoilt, pampered little nuisance.

Suddenly the front door, next to which Snape was standing, was thrown open, and he was taken aback by the sense of sadness radiating from the Potter boy. As soon as Harry saw Snape however, his face became a firm mask, and Snape was unsure he had seen anything at all. Sneering at the boy, he pulled the pre-arranged portkey from his pocket and held it out.

Without a greeting, and without speaking, Severus Snape and Harry Potter disappeared into thin air, unaware that they were watched by a single pair of eyes, peering out of the lounge room window, of number 4 Privet Drive.

**oOoOo**

Harry landed in the parlour of Grimmauld Place and stumbled, but managed to keep his footing. Grasping his trunk more firmly, and avoiding Snape's gaze, he prepared to go up to his room. On the wall in front of him however, a large clock caught his eye. He stood, knowing Snape was still standing behind him, probably wondering what he was doing, counting down the seconds until midnight, until his birthday, and until the anniversary of his parent's death.

The only sound was the ticking of that old clock, and Harry said a quick prayer for his parents, and vowed he would have revenge. In that moment, Harry made up his mind, and he squared his shoulders as the second hand approached twelve. He pushed out his emotions and forgot about them. He wouldn't be distracted by things he could never have. And then it happened.

Harry let out a breath of pain as heat flared abruptly in his scar and, strangely enough, on his right forearm. He fell to his knees, hand on his forehead. He paid no attention as Snape moved in front of him, speaking to him, because he couldn't see him. What he was seeing was far more terrifying. Voldemort stood in front of him, in a small, plain room with pale yellow walls. The lights were off, the room illuminated by a flash of green light, and then the wands of the three Death Eaters who stood facing Voldemort. And there, on the ground in front of them, lay two figures.

Harry watched in horror as Voldemort spoke to the Death Eaters, congratulating them on their success. It was as though he did not see the two people on the ground in front of him. But Harry knew they were mere inconveniences to him, nothing more.

He felt anger and grief at what he was witnessing, but suddenly he was back, staring into the face of Snape.

"What did you see?" he hissed. Harry closed his eyes slowly, but opened them when a firm hand closed over his shoulder. Flinching, he stood up and pulled out of Snape's grasp, ignoring the prickling of his scar.

"What did you see?" Snape repeated.

Harry looked at him.

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "It's too late."

Snape drew in a deep breath.

"I asked you a question, Potter. I want an answer."

"What, your master doesn't trust you enough to tell you what's going on?" Harry spat. Snape looked murderous, and Harry relented. "Mundungus Fletcher and Arabella Figg are dead."

Snape blinked in surprise and took a step back.

"Have you been practicing Occlumency?"

Harry was surprised at the change of subject, causing him to react truthfully.

"No. I haven't," he said, almost defiantly.

Snape looked livid.

"You fool, Potter! Do you know what could happen if the Dark Lord discovered something because you were too lazy to clear your mind?"

Harry took a step away from him, frowning.

"I don't need to explain myself to you," he said quietly. "I think you would be better off spending your time alerting the Order that there was an attack. They might be able to catch some Death Eaters."

Snape sneered at Harry.

"You were clutching your arm. Why?"

Harry looked down at his arm and realised it was still stinging.

"I don't know, and quite frankly, it's none of your business."

Harry bent to pick up his trunk, ignoring the look of dislike twisting Snape's features.

"You would do well to remember to respect your teachers, Potter."

"I'll show you respect when you show me some, _sir_," and with that, Harry left the room.

**oOoOo**

In his room, Harry pulled back his sleeve and examined his arm. It was not what he had expected, and he paled at the sight. Raised and pale against his skin was a scar, one that certainly hadn't been there yesterday. Was it coincidence that it had appeared when he had the vision, or was it something completely unrelated? And it had happened at that particular time…right at midnight.

Then he wondered, should he be panicking, or counting his blessings that it was somewhere no one could see it? He didn't know what it meant; whether it was good or bad. It was about ten centimetres long, situated just below his wrist. In the centre was a rune, enclosed in a circle. On the bottom of the circle, towards his elbow, was what appeared to be a snake head, its' tongue poking out, and this is what worried Harry. Snakes were evil. On the opposite side of the circle was a blade, vines twining up its' length. It was a dagger.

Maybe, thought Harry, it was related to the…incident. He needed information, a lot more. Grimmauld Place was large, and it had belonged to a family of pure bloods. It was sure to have a library.

So he went searching. It didn't take him long. It was on the second floor, towards the back of the house. Harry found it after going up a concealed staircase, evident only because the door had been slightly ajar.

It was large and dusty, and Harry stared up at the rows of books in awe. Hermione would be in heaven.

Eventually he came to the section he was looking for, in front of the main entrance to the library, and pulled the most likely looking tome from the shelf. He cracked it open, the pages stiff from years of disuse. Someone had obviously put a preservation charm on it though, and Harry was grateful. At least there was something in this house that was looked after. He began reading.

_Vampires are perhaps one of the most ancient races to walk the Earth. They are extremely temperamental beings and their life span far out spans that of any other magical creature. Their worship of purity of blood is even greater than that of wizards, and it is for this reason that they have long since distanced themselves from mortal man, and why they will never leave a victim alive. If a victim is left alive, and survive the initial draining of their blood, they will Turn. However, when one Turns, they will never become a true vampire; this can only be done through the union of two true vampires. _

_Depending on the extent of the draining, a victim will receive vampiric traits. These include certain magical abilities, but it is rare for these to be passed on unless the victim is also magical. For hundreds of years however, vampires have obeyed a pact with all magical creatures, never to Turn one, and doing so can result in Death or banishment. _

_In recent years _(here Harry looked and saw that the book had been written in 1873), _Vampires are believed to have succumbed to their pureblood obsession and are dying out. It is thought that some clans are reduced to mating with humans to keep their lines going. As a result, the number of pureblood families is slowly diminishing. _

_One of the oldest pureblood families is that of the V'Ardian Clan, situated in Western Europe. In order to-_

Harry glanced up, startled, as he heard footsteps stalking towards him down the hall. Hurriedly he shoved the book haphazardly back onto the shelf and guiltily turned to face the door just as it opened. It was Snape, and he stopped short when he saw Harry. His eyes flicked over to the bookshelf and back to Harry and he sneered.

Harry scowled in return. He couldn't keep reading with Snape here.

"What are you doing?" Snape spat.

Harry ignored him and walked past him into the hall. He would come back tomorrow and get the book. As he turned to go up the stairs, he looked back to see Snape examining the row of books where Harry had just been.

**oOoOo**

Harry awoke early the next morning, tired and sore. His muscles ached and his scar was prickling uncomfortably. He dressed slowly and went downstairs, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

He suddenly realised that he didn't know who else was here, but assumed there couldn't be many as the house seemed empty of personal belongings. He was just about to see what there was for breakfast when Dumbledore walked in, closely followed by Snape. Harry stood up abruptly to leave, but Dumbledore motioned for him to sit.

"I must talk with you, Harry, about what happened last night."

Snape shot Harry a sour look before heading towards the cupboard.

"I don't want to know, okay. I don't care."

"You need to know, Harry. You need to know why it had to happen."

"No, sir, I don't. I don't care that they didn't want me. They've never shown me otherwise, and I'm just as glad as they are to be out of their hair."

Harry started to leave, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"I am afraid, Harry, that I will not take no for an answer."

Dumbledore took a seat at the table and looked on calmly as Harry fought with his anger. What right did he have to keep him here? None. But Harry sat down anyway and obeyed Dumbledore, just like he had been doing all his life.

"Very good, Harry. Now, I-"

"Before you tell me, sir, is Mrs Figg really dead?"

Dumbledore bowed his head.

"It is true, Harry. Voldemort has been very active now that the Ministry has admitted his return. Arabella and Mundungus were important members of the Order. They payed for it with their lives."

Harry nodded. Mrs Figg had always been nice to him.

"But, we cannot dwell on what is past, Harry. For now, I will tell you why you are here, and we will leave it at that."

Harry nodded and watched as Snape sat across from him.

"Does he have to be here?" Harry asked darkly.

"Professor Snape will have to know eventually, Harry, as you know what his job is."

Harry nodded again, looking away from the pleased smirk on Snape's face as Dumbledore began.

"Fifteen years ago, your mother died to protect you. The charms she left on you would guard you as long as you had a home with a relative of your blood." But my blood's changing, thought Harry, as Dumbledore went on.

"Thus, the problem became finding relatives who would take you." Harry heard a soft snort from Snape.

"Your Aunt had declared many years before that she would have nothing to do with the wizarding world that killed her parents." Harry looked up at this. It was the first time he had heard of his grand parents.

"When I left you with your last remaining family, I made a deal with them. They would not take you out of any sort of charity, so I was forced to give them an incentive."

"And that was that when I left, they would forget about me and everything magical?"

"Your Aunt especially, could not stand the thought of her own family being killed because of magic. It is a simple memory charm, but nonetheless effective. They will not remember you if they see you."

Harry stared at the ground, fighting the knowledge that he had been unwanted that much.

"Was there anything else?"

"Yes. Your Aunt and Uncle requested that your cousin, Dudley, not be invited to attend Hogwarts."

Harry looked up in amazement.

"Dudley? Dudley is a wizard? But- I've never seen him do anything remotely magical," Harry said.

"I bound his powers. Not a huge feat, as he is not particularly powerful."

Harry ran his hand through his hair in amazement and looked at Dumbledore, who seemed as though he were hesitating with what he were about to say.

"You, on the other hand, were much harder to control."

"What?" Harry looked up sharply and saw Snape do the same thing across the table.

"You must understand, Harry, you were living in a muggle neighbourhood, trying to remain undetected. If your magic were to have been perceived by Voldemort, you may not be here today."

"So you bound my magic? For how long?" Harry asked, angry.

"Until last night," Dumbledore said. Harry shot to his feet, devastated.

"What gave you the right to do that?" he hissed angrily. "What? If you hadn't, I could have saved Cedric. I could have saved Sirius!"

"I am truly sorry, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Now you understand why you cannot return to your relatives. It is impossible for a wizard to bind another wizards powers after they turn sixteen, and your powers were already growing hard for me to control."

Harry stood still, his face pale. He couldn't believe he was hearing this and, from the look of it, neither could Snape.

"They didn't have to die," Harry said softly. Dumbledore looked defeated.

"You cannot change destiny, Harry."

"There is no such thing as destiny!" Harry shouted.

"Yes, Harry, there is. You know your destiny. You know it is true."

Harry stormed from the room and, as he left, a single tear slipped down his cheek. A tear for those who had fallen, and could have saved. A tear for those who had died because of him. A tear for what was to come.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: I hope you liked it! Please review, they are very much appreciated!**

**Chapter 4: Of Revelations and Resolutions**


	4. Of Revelations and Resolutions

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'ardian**

**Chapter 4**

**Of Revelations and Revolutions**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

When Harry returned to the Black library to retrieve the book, it was gone. He knew Snape had taken it, though why, he could not say. He was sick of being back here, surrounded by people he didn't want to see, memories he didn't want to remember. That was how he came to be in the attic, staring out the window into the garden beyond.

He had never been out there before, but it was lush and green, a welcome contrast from the darkness of Grimmauld Place. Since that morning, he had avoided the Snape and Dumbledore, though he knew they still waited downstairs, talking. He sat down on an old trunk by the window, but jumped up again when it gave him a sharp shock. He turned and looked at it and realised it was an old school trunk.

Slowly he opened it, wondering if it was Sirius'. Inside was a jumble of long-forgotten robes and school-books, quills and assorted junk. He searched through the randomly placed objects until he found one with a name on it.

It was an old, battered book that looked like a journal. Its cover was a faded crimson hue, its pages yellowed and old. It was blank, and Harry threw it down in disgust. He didn't want to look for old things belonging to Sirius.

It seemed, however, that fate had a different idea. The journal fell to the floor, and its cover flipped open, revealing a scribbled message on the inside. Harry picked it up and read it. It was obviously written by a woman, the inscription smooth and flowing.

_To my dear sons, Sirius and Regulus, _

_For your futures, _

_With all my love, _

_Mother. _

Could this letter, obviously written with some much caring and tenderness, be from the ugly, bitter old hag whose portrait refused to be moved from the wall in the hall? It seemed even a murderous pureblood like her could love a boy like Sirius. So what was wrong with him?

Harry sadly closed it and put it in his pocket. He would keep this one thing, as proof that people could change, for better or for worse. He would give anything to have received a letter ending with the words 'Love, Mum,' but it could not be so. He looked back out the window, and a movement in the garden below caught his eye. It was a fair way out from the house, just a rustling of the bushes, but it was enough to tell him that there was someone out there.

Making a decision, he hurried down the stairs and to the rear of the house. Making sure nobody was watching, he opened the back door and stepped out into the warm sunshine. The garden was amazing. Huge trees grew plentifully, their canopies joining to form a massive roof far above the garden. Harry realised the house must have been charmed to have a view, as some of the trees were much taller than the house itself.

Underneath the canopy was an oasis of colourful plants, stretching out of sight. Between the trees sprawled many winding, twisting, well-worn paths, snaking out of sight. It was as if it were a dense, solid wall of green, and Harry happily set off, choosing the path in the closest direction to the movement.

Someone must have taken a lot of pride in this garden once, he thought. It was by far the most beautiful thing in Grimmauld Place. A gnome attempted to trip him as he stepped over a tree root and he kicked it. He looked back to see it holding its knobbly head and swaying dizzily. A small flock of small black birds hopped around on the ground picking at seeds, and Harry realised they were the same bird on the Black crest. He bent close to one to watch it, but jumped back in horror when it shot a small jet of flame out of its mouth towards him.

As he moved down the path, he heard the musical tinkle of water and a small stream appeared, meandering through the undergrowth. On one side of the path a deep pool swirled, the water clear enough to see into its sparkling depths. In the centre of the pool, a black rock emerged, and atop it stood the most stunning statue Harry had ever seen. It seemed to be made of diamond, the gleaming facets shining every colour in the single ray of sunlight that pierced the canopy onto it. It was a woman, her hand extended, palm up towards heaven as though offering a sacrifice. In her palm sat a small ball.

It was pleasantly cool under the trees, and Harry continued on, eventually coming to the source of the movement. In a small clearing ahead of him he saw an enormous scarlet flower, its petals spread wide. Even from this distance he could smell its intoxicating scent, and instinctively wanted more. Standing in front of it was a slim girl with long black hair, but Harry couldn't see her face.

He started as she suddenly dropped to the ground, and rushed forward. But as soon as he entered the clearing, a strange thing happened. A simple, melodic tune seemed to fill his ears, and he stopped as though in a trance. Slowly he approached the flower, its fragrance overpowering his other senses.

He started to feel dizzy, and he realised what had made the girl collapse. He began to feel particularly alarmed when the centre of the flower opened up, and a hundred small, feeler-like things stretched out towards him. Fighting off the nostalgic sense of peace that was enveloping him, he grasped the girl around the arms and began tugging her out of the clearing. The way he had come was too far, so he dragged her past the flower and onto another path. Immediately his head began to clear, and he spotted a roughly-hewn wooden bench in a small alcove.

He heaved the girl up onto it and pushed her hair out of the way. He stared at her in shock. She was so familiar- but it couldn't be. There was no way it was possible, he would have known, wouldn't he?

He was dragged from his thought however, as she began to stir. Holding her up with one hand, he tapped her cheek softly and she gave a small moan. Her eyes opened widely and she looked around in alarm before her eyes settled on Harry. Her mouth opened in a silent 'oh,' and she shook her head.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

She nodded, leaning against his arm.

"Can I let you go, then?" he asked.

She looked confused, and then noticed what she was doing. Immediately she sprung up, but swayed and sat down again.

"I'm fine, I think," she said, doing a wonderful impression of a stunned mullet. Her expression soon cleared however, and Harry stood back, arms crossed.

"Well?"

"Well what?" she asked, glaring reproachfully at him.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Harry asked. A thankyou would have been nice.

The girl flicked her hair haughtily back over her shoulder and glanced disdainfully at him.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Obviously, if you're sure enough to say it like that. What are you doing here?"

"I'm staying here."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Here? At Grimmauld Place?"

"Yes, obviously," she said impatiently, standing up.

Harry sighed impatiently.

"Well do you have a name, then?"

_Please don't say _that_ name!_ Harry thought silently. _Please!_

"Katherine Winter, though I don't see why you need to know it."

"It would be polite, seeing as I just saved you from being devoured alive by a man-eating plant, and because you're staying in my God-father's house."

"Well, technically, it's your house now," the girl said.

Harry blinked in surprise.

"What?"

Katherine looked at him incredulously.

"You mean you don't know? No one's told you?"

"Told me what?" Harry asked impatiently.

"It's yours now, everything. It was in that man's will. What was his name? Cyrus Black?"

Sirius," Harry ground out, "It was Sirius."

"Yes, well, apparently he left everything to you."

Harry stared at her in shock. Why had no one told him? Furiously he spun on his heel, forgetting about the girl. She was rude and superior, just like Malfoy. He didn't have time for people like her. And if it was his house, why had no one asked him if she and Snape could stay there?

That was another thing, thought Harry, as he collapsed onto his bed. The similarities were astounding, but it couldn't be right. It was just a coincidence. But it was scary, how much they looked alike. The same black eyes and black hair, the same tall, skinny frame and, Harry sneered, the same offensive, vile manner. Except she had darker skin, and her name was different.

But there was no denying the resemblance between Katherine Winter and Severus Snape.

**oOoOo**

Dinner that night was stilted and awkward. Dumbledore was not present, so Harry sat at the table across from Snape, waiting for Katherine to arrive. Snape had merely said when Harry arrived that it was the proper _manners_. Manners, Harry thought, coming from Snape. Snape obviously didn't know they had met, as he felt the need to introduce them when she arrived.

"Potter, this is Katherine Winter. She will be attending Hogwarts in the same year as you."

Harry shot her a look and she responded with a condescending glare. Harry could have sworn he nearly saw Snape smile, but when he turned his gaze on him it was gone.

Snape waved his wand and a few bowls of food appeared on the table. Harry waited until Snape and Katherine had served themselves before getting his own food. He didn't know whether this was out of habit or politeness, though habit seemed the more likely option.

The atmosphere was incredibly tense and depressing, and Snape kept throwing filthy looks at Harry. Eventually Harry got sick of them, and the next time he looked up to see Snape glaring at him, he silently stood up and left the room.

**oOoOo**

When he returned to his room, Harry found a pile of presents waiting on his bed. he fed Hedwig then sat down in front of them. He felt unwell and the meal had been extremely unsatisfying. The presents gave him no joy; they were the usual things that reminded him of happier times that were no gone.

Only one intrigued him. It didn't say who it was from, and for this reason, Harry was wary of it. It was beautiful, though. It was a crystal ball, inlaid with white gold vines, and Harry shivered at the resemblance they held to his new scar. He held it up to the light, and saw flashed of red and emerald within it. A thin tube ran up the centre, joining up with the vines.

Harry rolled it around in his palm for a moment before wrapping it carefully in an old pair of socks and placing it in his trunk next to the journal. His solitude was interrupted by a curt knock on the door, and Snape entered without waiting for a reply.

"Potter, I have an urgent letter that needs to be sent. I require you owl."

Harry scowled. His lack of manners was irritating.

"She's over there," he said, gesturing to where Hedwig perched, having finished her owl treats.

Snape stalked over and Hedwig hopped obediently onto his arm. In a swirl of black robes and a slamming door, Harry's last friend was gone.

Harry sighed and cleared his bed off. He got up to turn the light off and there was a sudden tapping on the window, one that Harry knew very well. Spinning around, he saw Hedwig flapping outside his window. Hurrying over, he pulled Hedwig into the room just as a furious Snape burst in.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter?" he hissed, storming over to him. He tore the letter off of Hedwig's leg and she gave an indignant hoot, striking out at the irate man.

Snape swore and snatched the letter away, drops of blood forming across his hand. Harry watched, transfixed, as they welled up on his skin and dribbled over the back of his hand. He leaned forward slowly, his arm reaching out. Snape stepped backwards, thinking he was reaching for the letter, and Harry stopped in horror. Had he been about to lick Snape's blood off his hand? He shivered at the thought.

"This is not your letter, Potter!" Snape spat. "Obviously I can rely on you owl no more than I can rely on you!"

Harry glared at Snape as he spun and left the room. He turned to Hedwig.

"It's alright, girl. He's a stupid git, that's all."

**oOoOo**

Harry's OWL results came the next morning. He was sitting at the kitchen table with Snape and Katherine again when a Hogwarts owl arrived with the three letters. One for him, one for Katherine, and one for Snape. Katherine opened hers immediately, but Snape discarded his onto the table.

He opened the envelope and out fell a bright gold and scarlet badge. He was Quidditch captain. He let a small smile split his face and he caught Katherine looking at him.

His results however, were not so pleasing. It was not the fact that they were bad- they were far from it. He scanned the parchment in mounting disbelief and disappointment. He turned to Snape.

"Sir, do the teachers know yet who got into their classes?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Snape gestured carelessly at his own letter, but the troubled look on Harry's face had obviously caught his attention.

"Who decides you result, sir?"

"The member of the Examination Board to whom you did your tests, obviously. Why do you ask?"

Harry glanced down at his results and silently passed them to Snape, who scanned them. When he spoke, his voice was a deadly whisper.

"All Outstandings, Potter? Can you never do anything on your own?"

Harry stood in anger.

"You think I don't want to? You think I don't want a moment of my life when I can't just be a normal Hogwarts student? I didn't ask for them to give me those marks just because I have a stupid bloody scar on my head!"

Suddenly Harry was angry, angrier than he could ever remember being. He felt a wave of magic and Snape stood up, wand in his hand.

"Control your magic, Potter!" he hissed, "Or I will have to force you to!"

"Then stop patronising me!" Harry hissed. He felt blind to reason, and distantly wondered why he was getting mad so quickly. He felt another wave rush through him, and saw a flicker of fear pass across Snape's face. This, more than anything, brought him back to reality.

He spun around, chest heaving.

"Tell me what happened," Snpae commanded, and Harry turned to face him.

"What do you think happened?" Harry sneered. Snape scowled and transfigured an object on the table. Harry looked down and saw a mirror.

"Pick it up, Potter," he said softly. "See what you look like."

Harry reached a trembling hand out and picked up the simple mirror. His skin was pale and his eyes…his eyes were red. He dropped the mirror on the tale and it smashed. He stumbled back and rushed from the room.

For the first time in a long time, he was scared. Not because Snape had seen, or Katherine, but because of who he had looked like.

He had looked like Voldemort.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Review, review, review! Thanks :)**

**Chapter 5: Of Worries and Wheezes**


	5. Of Worries and Wheezes

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'ardian**

**Chapter 5**

**Of Worries and Wheezes**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

The following day, Snape informed Harry that they were going to Diagon Alley.

"The Headmaster has requested that you bring your invisibility cloak and wear it the entire time," Snape said. Harry saw the logic, though he couldn't help thinking that Snape would rather imagine he wasn't there as well.

The three of them gathered in front of the fireplace and Snape turned to them.

"I will go first, then Katherine, and then Potter will come last. Be sure to wear your cloak. Once we are there, I must leave you. I have a letter to post. I will meet you on the steps of Gringotts at midday. If any trouble arises, return here straight away, is that clear?"

Harry and Katherine both nodded, and Snape stepped into the green fire and disappeared.

Katherine followed and soon Harry was alone in the room. Sighing, he pulled his cloak over his head and, stepping into the fire, shouted 'Diagon Alley!'

"I'm here," he muttered. This really was ridiculous. The Alley was crowded, and there was no way he was going to walk around unnoticed.

"Very well," said Snape, talking to Katherine. "I will see you later."

Spinning on his heel, he stalked off into the crowd. Harry rolled his eyes. Some things never changed.

Stepping slightly closer to him, Katherine whispered.

"I have to go to Gringotts first. I can get you some money as well."

"Okay," said Harry, glad she was at least being civil.

"Alright, just stay close behind me. We don't want anyone bumping into you."

Hoisting her bag higher on her shoulder, she turned and began to move through the throngs of people waiting for a free fireplace. He received an odd look from an official-looking man when he accidentally stepped on his foot, but without too much trouble they soon found themselves ascending the wide stone steps leading up to the large white structure.

Harry followed Katherine through the door, a goblin eyeing her suspiciously. She turned her head towards him.

"Are you there?" she asked, as they queued in a line.

In reply he pressed his key into her hand.

"Two hundred Galleons, please," he whispered, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise. Two hundred Galleons was a lot.

"Very well," she murmured.

The goblin behind the counter beckoned them forward, and Katherine placed a key on the counter.

"I would like fifty Galleons from this account, please."

The goblin took the key and examined it carefully, before nodding his consent. He was about to motion to another goblin when Katherine leant forward, placing Harry's key next to her own.

"And I would like fifty Galleons from this account."

The goblin eyed her suspiciously and picked up the key, examining it.

Eventually he lowered it and eyed Katherine, who stared at him, stony-faced.

"This is not your key. Where did you get it?"

Katherine was about to reply, but Harry stepped forward and removed the cloak.

"It is my key. I would like two hundred Galleons. I'm sure you understand my need for anonymity?" Harry asked.

The goblin bowed deeply.

"My apologies, Mr Potter," he said respectfully. "Please, follow me."

Harry glanced around and pulled the cloak back over himself. Thankfully nobody had noticed him.

They spent the next few hours in relative silence, gathering the required necessities for school. Katherine was extremely grumpy at the strange looks she was getting and was refusing to talk to him. Eventually there was nowhere else to go, so they found a seat outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and sat down. Katherine crossed her arms over her chest and glared determinedly away from Harry, indicating that she did not want to talk.

Harry was thinking how boring this would be, when someone caught his eye. He glared as Draco Malfoy rushed past their table, obviously intent on reaching his destination. On a sudden impulse, Harry stood up, his chair scraping on the ground. Katherine looked at him sharply.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"We've got an hour till we have to meet Snape. I'll be back soon."

"You can't leave!" Katherine whispered, but Harry ignored her.

"I won't be long," he said, and hurried off into the crowd after Malfoy.

The slick of blonde hair was easy to follow, and as they neared the end of the Alley, the crowd thinned. Suddenly Harry realised where they were going, and he followed Malfoy into the dreariness of Knockturn Alley. It was dark and dingy, and a coldness seemed to hang in the air. Harry hurried after Malfoy and managed to slip through the door as Malfoy hurried into the one shop in Alley that Harry had visited.

"Borgin!" Malfoy barked, as he strolled up to the counter. The timid looking man bowed deeply.

"Mr Malfoy, what a pleasure," he lied easily, his oily voice grating on Harry's nerves.

"Do you have it?" Malfoy asked roughly, and Harry wondered what he was talking about.

Borgin cowered.

"Not quite, but I have made arrangements-"

Malfoy interrupted him, his voice arrogant and rude.

"I expect you will have acquired it by the required date?" Malfoy hissed. "I would hate to have to resort to more…persuasive methods to encourage you to hurry."

"Of course, of course, it will be ready, sir."

Borgin was visibly frightened, and Harry wondered when Malfoy had started getting so important. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Malfoy was following closely in his father's footsteps, and his theory was proven a second later as Malfoy pulled up the left sleeve of his robes.

"You know who you are dealing with, Borgin. Do not fail me."

"No, no, Mr Malfoy. I will do no such thing," gasped Borgin, averting his eyes from what Harry knew must be the Dark Mark. Harry could imagine Malfoy sneering before he turned around. Harry stepped backwards and bumped into a cabinet with a loud thump.

Malfoy and Borgin stared at the cabinet and Malfoy pulled out his wand.

"Are we not alone?" he hissed at Borgin.

"I had no idea, none at all, Mr Malfoy," he trembled, moving around the counter and drawing his wand.

Harry decided to make a run for it. As Malfoy began pacing towards him, Harry spun around and slipped out the door. He dashed into the closest doorway and stopped. A moment later Malfoy and Borgin followed him out and stood, looking around. Malfoy looked furious, and Borgin looked scared.

Grimacing at his clumsiness, Harry decided ti was time to leave, and quickly headed back to Diagon Alley. Taking his time walking back, Harry noticed a shop that he hadn't seen on his way, after watching Malfoy so intently.

It was amazing he had missed t; it was easily the most visible shop in the Alley. Glancing at his watch and deciding he had enough time, Harry dodged across the Alley and into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. A bell sounded as he entered but no one noticed, and with good reason. The shop was overflowing with people, adults and children alike. Deciding he would have to risk it, Harry pulled off his cloak, but kept his head down. He pushed through the swarming customers towards the counter and caught sight of Fred and George.

He saw a witch staring at him in disbelief and quickly walked through to a back room of the shop.

"Oy, Fred, someone just went out the back. I'm gonna check it out."

"Rightio," came the reply. "I'll come with you. Felicity, would you mind watching the counter for a second?"

"Sure thing," sounded the bright reply.

A moment later, Harry came face to face with the Weasley twins.

"Harry!" exclaimed Fred.

Harry grinned.

"Looks like business si booming," he said.

George nodded fervently.

"Never dreamed we'd be this busy! It's amazing. We thing Mum has changed her mind about it now."

"Where have you been, Harry?" Fred asked, butting in. "We haven't heard from you all summer!"

The grin vanished from Harry's face. He shrugged.

"I'm staying at, well, you know where with Snape and this new girl. It's downright depressing."

"A new girl, eh? What's her name?"

"Katherine Winter. She's in my year."

Fred grinned.

"Is she good looking?"

Harry chuckled.

"She's not too bad, once you get past the attitude."

"Ooh, tough," winced George.

"Yeah, well I can't wait to get back to Hogwarts," Harry said.

"You aren't the only one. Hermione and Ron are at the Burrow and they're desperate to get away from Mum. They haven't been allowed to leave the yard."

"Are they coming to Grimmauld Place?"

Fred and George traded looks.

"Well, no. The thing is, Harry, Dumbledore came to see us. He said you needed to be left alone for a while. Mum wasn't happy about it, but Dumbledore was pretty firm about it."

"So what's going on, Harry?"

"I had no idea he said that!" Harry fumed. "I wish he would stop butting in where he's not wanted!"

"Well, I suppose Dumbledore knows what's best," said Fred.

"So I've heard," Harry said darkly. He glanced at his watch. "I have to get back," he said. "Give Ron and Hermione my best."

"Will do," said George, nodding. "And, Harry, thanks for everything," he said, gesturing towards the shop.

"No problem," smiled Harry. "I'll see you around."

Fighting his way back through the customers, Harry hurried back to find Katherine. It was nearly twelve, and when he finally spotted her she was standing impatiently tapping her foot.

"Where have you been?" she hissed, when Harry announced his presence.

"Taking a walk," he replied stubbornly.

Katherine sneered and set off into the crowd. It seemed to be getting busier, and Harry kept bumping into people. Eventually they arrived at Gringotts, and ascended the stairs to wait for Snape.

In the distance Harry could see him pushing through the crowd, but his attention was pulled away by an oily voice to his side.

"Lady Katherine, what a pleasure. It has been some time since we met."

"Mister Pelier," said Katherine smiling at Lucius Malfoy. Harry gaped in disbelief. "How are you?"

"Very well, thankyou. And you?"

"Quite well. I am attending Hogwarts this year, did you know?"

However, the conversation came to an abrupt halt as Harry, who had not been looking out, was bumped from behind by someone coming out of the door. He stumbled forward into Malfoy who spun around, wand drawn. He stared straight through Harry and suddenly his hand stretched out. Before Harry had a chance to step away, Malfoy's hand snagged the corner of his cloak, dragging it off of him.

His face registered a look of disdain.

"Potter!" And he was not the only one saying Harry's name. It seemed as though the street had stopped, and the upturned faces gazed at Harry.

"Harry Potter!" someone yelled. The crowd slowly began converging on Harry and he looked around desperately. Snape was glaring up at him trying to push through the crowd, but he was never going to make it in time. Harry snatched his cloak out of Malfoy's hand and grabbed his bag.

"Let's go, Katherine," he said roughly, and they disappeared into the front doors of Gringotts.

The two of them rushed across the marble floor to a fire place and Harry motioned for Katherine to go first. Glaring at him, she took a pinch of Floo powder and disappeared into the green flame. Harry followed her seconds later as the doors of Gringotts burst open to admit a horde of people. Harry stumbled onto the kitchen floor of Grimmauld Place, angrily wiping his glasses on his sleeve.

"How the hell do you know Malfoy?" Harry demanded.

Katherine turned to face him, dusting soot off her sleeve.

"I don't," she said shortly.

"You were talking to him!" Harry said hotly. What was Malfoy doing walking freely in Diagon Alley?

"I was not!"

"I can assure you Katherine, that the person you were talking to was Lucius Malfoy, not some Pelier!"

Their argument came to a halt as Snape stepped out of the fireplace with a frown firmly in place.

"Can you not do anything without causing a fuss?" he sneered, before turning to leave the room. However, Harry called after him.

"Why is Lucius Malfoy free?" he asked. Snapo froze and turned slowly.

"What did you say?" he asked softly, dark eyes glittering in the dim light.

Katherine butted in.

"He thinks I was talking to someone called Lucius Malfoy!"

"Who were you talking to?" Snape asked.

A look of confusion passed over Katherine's face.

"I'm- not sure," she said.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"You can't remember?"

"Look," Harry said, "Malfoy's supposed to be in Azkaban! Why is he walking around in London?"

"He isn't supposed to be!" Snape snapped. He turned back to Katherine. "You say you can't remember who you were talking to?"

Katherine shook her head.

"Potter, if Katherine cannot remember to whom she was talking then I fail to see how you can as well."

"Maybe he was using some kind of charm, a forgetfulness charm or something."

"Possibly, but that does not explain how she appeared to know him. I think perhaps a recognition charm."

"Fine, whatever it was. But it was Malfoy who had the charm on him!"

"You cannot be sure of that, Potter!" Snape snapped.

"I know who I was talking to, Harry, and it wasn't Lucius Malfoy!"

"How do you know? You said you didn't know him!"

"I know what he looks like," Katherine snapped.

Sir, you have to do something!" Harry ground out.

"Potter, there is no way Lucius Malfoy would be walking around Diagon Alley without at least a glamour charm on. It could not have been him."

"But Katherine didn't recognise him! Maybe he did have a glamour charm on!"

"Are you saying you can see through glamour charms now Potter?" Snape sneered.

Harry knew he was fighting a losing battle. He knew what he had seen, he didn't doubt it. But if what Snape was saying was true, then how had he seen through the glamour?

Harry headed up to his room and opened the door to find an unfamiliar grey owl seated on the window sill, a letter tied to its leg. Curiously, he untied the letter and began to read.

_To Lord V'Ardian…_

**oOoOo**

**A/N: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Personally I hated this chapter, but it had to be written. Don't forget to keep reading! ;)**

**Chapter 6: Of Power and Pride**


	6. Of Power and Pride

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 6**

**Of Power and Pride**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

The weeks before Harry was due to return to Hogwarts passed slowly. As the days went on, he began to become steadily unwell, and he found himself becoming aware of his new vampiric abilities.

He made sure he always wore long sleeve to hide his new scar and over that time, he began to get to know Katherine better. Their friendship was grudging at first, but there was nobody else to talk to and so they had been resigned to the fact that the other was their only company.

She didn't talk about her personal life and Harry didn't ask, however curious he may have been. She told him her mother had been murdered by Death Eaters, Harry couldn't help thinking that at least they had something in common.

He couldn't shake the feeling that she was hiding something, and he didn't forget her similarity to Snape. He decided to be patient and discuss it with Ron and Hermione when he saw them.

But over those last few weeks of summer, the thing that most plagued Harry's mind was the letter. It had been short and unsigned, but Harry couldn't help but notice the coincidence in timing between Snape sending his letter and Harry receiving his- and how Hedwig had flown to him with Snape's letter.

For some reason, Lord V'Ardian was important to someone, though Harry didn't know who. He couldn't believe that it was him, though the name of V'Ardian was chillingly familiar.

And so it was that Harry received the greeting of 'Blimey, mate, you look terrible!' from Ron when he met them at King's Cross. He knew it was true. He hadn't been sleeping and he was constantly unsatisfied with everything.

He had made some vague reply about spending his holidays with Snape, and Ron had nodded fervently, sympathetically. Hermione simply fixed him with a beady eye, after, of course, engulfing him in a huge hug.

"Come on, let's get a carriage," he said, heading towards the shadow of the train. The light irritated him, and he had come to appreciate the darkness and gloominess that Grimmauld Place had offered.

He vaguely noticed the troubled looks on Ron and Hermione's faces, but ignored them as he headed towards the train, lugging his trunk behind him. He went straight to the last compartment and found it thankfully empty. With a sigh he took a seat and waited for Ron and Hermione to arrive.

They appeared a few minutes later and sat opposite him. Harry grimaced at the concerned looks on their faces. He didn't feel like answering questions right now. Obviously the expression on his face got through to him, as they both looked away and slumped back in their seats.

"So, Harry," began Ron, "who's this new girl that was at Grimmauld Place? Mum said she's from Italy, and her father is an old friend of Dumbledore."

Harry pondered the question for a second. Over the last few weeks they had developed an unspoken alliance, almost a closeness, but he wasn't going to tell them that. He looked out the window to see if he could spot her, and saw her sitting on a seat outside on the platform.

"That's her, on the seat over there," Harry said, pointing.

Ron and Hermione leaned over and looked.

Ron sat back, impressed.

"Wow, she's hot!" he exclaimed, causing Hermione to frown. Harry grinned at their reactions, when he suddenly remembered his suspicions.

"Do you think she seems familiar?" Harry questioned them.

Ron and Hermione shook their heads.

"Nah, mate. If I saw someone like that, I'd definitely remember them."

"Do you think you've seen her before, Harry?" asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head, staring out at her. Maybe he should go and ask her if she needed any help.

"D'you think she'll be in Gryffindor?" Ron enthused. "She looks like a Gryffindor."

Harry shrugged. She sure didn't look like a Gryffindor to him.

Ron peered out the window again.

"I hope she is! I wouldn't mind seeing those blue eyes everyday," he joked, causing Hermione's frown to deepen.

Harry forced a grin while considering Ron's comment. He certainly couldn't see the blue in her eyes. They were definitely black. He would have said something, had he not already experienced this 'ability' to see people differently to what they really were. He stared at the ceiling of the carriage, thinking. There was definitely something going on.

**oOoOo**

Harry nodded as Hermione explained about her and Ron's prefect duties and they stood up, closing the compartment door behind them.

He looked out the window to see Katherine still sitting there. He debated whether to go and help her, thinking he really should have stayed with her in the first place. Then again, she wasn't the kind of person who appreciated or accepted help easily.

Sighing and realising he had nothing better to do, he stood up and took the nearest exit onto the platform. He ignored the stares of other students and paced quickly over to her.

"You know you really should get on the train," he murmured.

She looked up at him with a trace of a smile on her face, surprising Harry.

"Would you help me with my trunk?"

"Er- sure. Where do you want to sit?"

He grabbed her trunk and began wheeling it towards the train. It was much heavier than his, and he wondered what she had in there.

"I suppose I should sit with you, considering I don't really know anyone," she said.

Harry didn't think this was such a good idea, but didn't voice his opinion. After all, what was so wrong with it? The niggling little voice in his head piped up.

_She's probably going to be in Slytherin. And there's that thing with Snape…If she really does know him personally he isn't going to like her hanging around with me. _

But Harry kept walking, Katherine following him silently. They reached the compartment and she helped him push the trunk into the overhead rack.

Moments later, the whistle blew, and the train began moving.

"So where are your friends?" Katherine asked, taking a seat

"They're prefects" Harry muttered

"Are they both in Gryffindor too?"

"Yes. They houses at Hogwarts don't really mix much, especially Slytherins."

Katherine frowned.

"Do you think Slytherins are bad?" she asked.

"Well as a whole, they do have a reputation. I know they aren't all bad but the fact is that all of my enemies are in that house."

Katherine laughed out loud and Harry looked up in surprise.

"What?"

"You're 16 years old, Harry. You don't have enemies at Hogwarts."

Harry continued to stare at her. Then it was her turn to ask.

"What?"

Harry shook his head, turning his gaze out the window.

"You won't know how it is until we get to Hogwarts, I suppose," he said.

However, what neither of them knew, was that she wouldn't have to wait that long.

After a while they lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Harry got the impression that Katherine had demons of her own to think about. Her direct attitude was refreshing, much easier to deal with than the half-answers and awkward silences he had to deal with when he spoke to others. Maybe it was because she hadn't automatically been impressed with him the first time they had met.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door sliding open and Ron and Hermione entering.

Harry rolled his eyes as Ron stopped, gawking at Katherine and causing Hermione to bump into him from behind.

"Ron- what's going on? Is Harry all right?"

Harry could see Hermione trying to peer over Ron's shoulder, which was far above her small stature. Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and gave Ron a shove in the back, sending him sprawling onto the seat next to Harry.

He coughed, embarrassed, and sat up, Katherine staring at him with a look akin to contempt on her face.

"Uh, guys, this is Katherine. Katherine, this is Ron and Hermione."

Katherine gave a small smile in Hermione's direction.

"Hello."

"Hi, Katherine," she beamed, and suddenly she was off on one of her speeches about Hogwarts, and Harry was content with the knowledge that he would have at least a few minutes of peace.

The weather outside was dismal and grey, and it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. He wondered if he should change into his robes, but was drawn from his musings as the compartment door slid open. Harry assumed it was the lunch lady and ignored it, until he heard the unctuous voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Well, well, Potter's got a new friend. Allow me to introduce myself," Malfoy drawled, extending his hand.

Katherine took the outstretched hand, but Harry was pleased to see that she drew away quite quickly. Malfoy soon forgot about Katherine however, as he turned towards Harry.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry spat, glaring. He was rapidly becoming irritated at the ingratiating and arrogant smirk on his face.

However, this look quickly turned to one of hate and anger.

"I've come to even out a few issues with you, Potter," said Malfoy, stepping towards Harry. Harry too stood up, hand ready to draw his wand.

"I'd rather not, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. He looked behind Malfoy and saw Crabbe and Goyle, whom Hermione was glaring up at. She stood up.

"Malfoy, if you cause any trouble I will report you to Professor McGonagall. I am a prefect."

Malfoy sneered and turned around.

"Stay out of this, you stupid Mudblood!" he hissed, and Harry saw Ron's become angry.

"Bugger off, Malfoy!" he hissed, and Malfoy laughed.

"Like you could do anything to me!" he gloated.

Harry was getting angry, far quicker than he previously did when talking to Malfoy.

"Look, Malfoy, I have absolutely no desire to discuss the details of your Death Eater father right now. Let him know that I saw him in Diagon Alley, and I'm going to find out why."

"Harry!" Hermione pleaded, but Malfoy had already turned to Harry.

"What did you say, Potter?" he hissed, raising his wand.

"Malfoy, put your wand down!" Hermione ordered, stepping forward.

"You'll regret this, Potter," Malfoy hissed, stepping back from Harry.

"I'm sure I will," said Harry, as Malfoy turned to leave. "Give my regard to your Master, Malfoy."

It happened so quickly, Harry had no time to react.

Hermione had stepped behind Malfoy to close the door when Malfoy spun around and uttered an incantation. The spell, meant for Harry, hit Hermione in the chest and she gave a surprised grunt and fell to the floor.

Harry snapped. He stepped over Hermione's prone body and swung at Malfoy, catching him on the chin. Malfoy's head snapped back and he stumbled backwards. Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

Malfoy straightened up, a murderous look on his face. He raised his wand, but Harry was quicker. He thrust his hand forward, palm open, and Malfoy gave a soft 'oh' of surprise as an invisible force pushed him backwards. Harry followed him out into the corridor.

"You will never do that again," Harry growled, ignoring the threatening glances from Crabbe and Goyle.

Malfoy spat at Harry and raised his wand.

"That is what I think of you, Potter. You will pay for what you've done to my father!"

"Not before you pay for what you've done," Harry hissed. "Tell me what you did to Hermione!"

A sick, satisfied grin twisted Malfoy's features and he began the incantation again, at Harry.

Impulsively, Harry reached out and grabbed Malfoy's face, forcing him to stop. Malfoy gave a yell of pain as Harry's hand grew hot and pulled away. He put a hand to his face where Harry had gripped him, and Harry saw the skin was red and raised, reminding him of Quirrel in his first year.

"What the hell was that?" Malfoy hissed. He drew his hand away and Harry saw a faint white outline falling from the corner of his eye. It was a scar, the same scar that resided on Harry's own arm. Malfoy raised his wand, but again found an invisible force pushing him backwards. He fell to the ground, unconscious, and Crabbe and Goyle ran off.

He stood, staring in horror at Malfoy, as Ron tried to pull him back into the compartment.

"Harry, help me! Hermione's not moving!"

Harry slammed the door on the prone figure of Malfoy and knelt down next to Hermione. She was lying with her eyes shut, her breathing coming fast and panting. She was mumbling, twitching as though having a bad dream.

"What did he do to her, Harry?" Ron asked, face pale. Katherine came and knelt beside them, taking Hermione's hand. Harry looked at his friend.

"Ron, go and get which ever teacher is supervising," he said, and Ron immediately got up and disappeared.

Katherine peered at Harry as he looked for signs of injury.

"You said his name was Malfoy. Is he related to the man you saw in Diagon Alley?"

"Yes," said Harry, avoiding meeting her dark gaze. "His name is Draco, son of Lucius Malfoy."

"What did you do to him?"

Harry was silent. He didn't even know what he had done. He stood up, his voice rough.

"Nothing more than he deserved."

Katherine pierced him with a disbelieving look which he ignored, opening the door of the compartment. He was standing, glaring down at Malfoy, when Ron returned, closely followed by Tonks.

"Harry, what happened?" Tonks asked, her voice allowing no room for her usual camaraderie.

"Malfoy attacked Hermione. We don't know what's wrong with her."

Tonks glanced at Malfoy and then pushed past him into the compartment. Harry heard her swear under her breath as she knelt next to Hermione. She stood up, levitating Malfoy over to her. She conjured stretchers underneath them and turned back to Harry, passing him the pendant that he had seen so many Order members wearing.

"I have to take these two to St Mungo's, Harry. I'm the only Auror on this train, so if anything happens, I need you to use this. Hold it and say the name of the person you want to contact and they'll know something's gone wrong."

She glanced at Ron and Katherine before disappearing, taking Hermione and Malfoy with her.

Harry looked at Ron, who was staring at him strangely.

"What?" he snapped, irritated.

"How'd you do that, Harry?" Ron asked hoarsely.

"Do what?"

"What you did to Malfoy. You did magic without a wand."

Harry shrugged.

"I've done it before, when I get emotional. It's no big deal."

Ron looked at Harry, the expression on his face one of awe and….fear?

Harry looked away. Maybe it was because of what Dumbledore had done, now that he had full use of his powers. Harry went over to his seat and pulled on his robes, before turning back to Ron.

"I'll tell you about it later," he said.

Ron seemed to accept this, and the three of them returned to sitting in silence. Harry looked over at Katherine, her face devoid of emotion. What secrets was she hiding?

**oOoOo**

The sky outside was pitch black, and Harry thought they should see the lights of Hogsmeade station anytime soon. Ron had left the compartment to begin his prefect duties, though Harry wondered if it was really because he was worried about Hermione. Tonks had not returned, and they had heard no news about their friend. Harry could feel the warm weight of the pendant on his chest and hoped he wouldn't have to use it.

He didn't understand why they needed to send an Auror on the Hogwarts Express.

Harry felt the train begin to slow and peered out the window. In the distance he could see the lights of Hogsmeade, but not the station. That was when he realised that something was wrong.

He stood up abruptly.

"Stay here," he said to Katherine, and hurried from the compartment. He dashed up to the front of the train, passing the prefects carriage so quickly that none of them saw him. He looked out the window and saw, through the darkness of the night, the platform approaching. Minutes later, the train came to a halt and Harry stepped slowly onto the platform. Behind him he could hear the rumble of students starting to get off the train, but ahead of him, all was still. The silence carried with it the stench of death, and Harry's heart sunk. He had felt this way before. He knew what it meant. Slowly he raised his wand.

"Lumos."

His voice was hoarse. He stepped forward, ignoring the voices of the prefects calling to the students.

"Harry!" he heard someone call, but he raised his wand so that the beam of light shone high over the ground.

That was when he saw the body. His heart skipped a beat in shock, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't who he thought it was. Who he _knew_ it was. But that was impossible. No one else was that big.

He dropped his hand and ran for the figure of the man lying on the ground, only one thought in his mind.

_Please don't be dead_.

But wishes, he had learnt, were not for him. Nothing that he wanted ever came true. He knew, with a strange sinking feeling, even before he reached the man's side that they were never going to speak again. Harry flung himself onto the ground next to the man, fingers searching for a pulse, for any sign that his friend was still had a chance.

"Harry!"

He heard Ron calling from the train, could hear students screaming as beams of light lit up the gruesome scene in front of him. Ron came pounding up to Harry.

"Oh, Harry! Is he alright?"

Ron sounded unsure and scared, his skin pale beneath his freckles. Harry looked up at him and Ron could see the answer in his eyes, and the corresponding guilt.

"Ron, go back to the train. Get everyone into the carriages. You need to get them to Hogwarts." His voice sounded hollow even to him, but Ron nodded, his eyes on the still form of the man. Other students began to gather behind them, the light from there wands lighting up the platform. Ron looked up, behind Harry, and saw something in the half-light.

The gasps behind him indicated that the other students had seen it too.

He raised a shaky hand, finger pointing.

"Harry…look…"

Harry stood and turned to look where Ron was pointing.

The light from the wands lit up the wall of the platform, upon which was a message inscribed with what looked to be blood.

And Harry knew that it was meant for him.

"What does it mean, Harry? Who wrote it?"

But Harry didn't answer. Instead, he turned to the students surrounding the three of them, and they flinched at the palpable aura that was emanating from him. After that night, some would say they could see hate in his eyes, hate and power. More than a few would admit they had been scared. All would comment on the deep sorrow they had seen there, as though Harry Potter held some great burden. Maybe it was because of this indefinable sense of power that they all listened to him.

"All of you, get in the carriages," he said. "They will take you to Hogwarts."

Slowly he turned around to gaze up at the message written on the wall. Shortly after that, the prefects began shepherding the younger students towards the carriages. Only two people were left, standing behind the great Harry Potter.

One, his best friend, and another whom no one had ever seen before. A blue-eyed, dark-haired girl by the name of Katherine Winters. Eventually they too, followed the other students to the carriages and it was then that Harry lifted his hand to the pendant and summoned those that were needed.

They were there within seconds, apparating from wherever their busy lives had taken them. Harry stayed with his friend as they arrived and as the students left. The first to arrive was Severus Snape and Andromeda Tonks, both of whom had been at Hogwarts. When they rushed to Harry's side and stared in shock down at the still form of the dead man, and asked what had happened, Harry pointed up at the words scrawled across the wall.

"He did it because of me."

**oOoOo**

Harry was escorted directly to the Headmaster's office. He hadn't expected otherwise, after all, Dumbledore firmly stood by his belief that 'understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.'

But Harry didn't want to accept that Hagrid, his first contact with the wizarding world, his first friend, was dead. He already understood why it had happened. And there would be no recovery for Hagrid, the innocent man who had got in the way of evil.

That night, Dumbledore flew between concern and weariness, and rage at what had happened. He questioned Harry and Harry answered as best he could. There were questions about the station, about Hagrid, and then there were the questions about what he had done to Draco Malfoy.

Dumbledore didn't asked why the people who had murdered Hagrid had written what they had on the wall of the station, because they both knew. Professor Snape, standing behind Harry, already knew. Professor McGonagall, next to Dumbledore, looked as though she desperately wanted to know what Voldemort meant by 'You know what I need. He can be the last.'

She left the office early, to complete the Sorting. Harry left not long after her and accompanied Snape and Dumbledore to the Feast, thought he protested against it. Stares followed him as he walked to the seat that Ron, who sat silent and pale, had saved for him, and he was stunned at the huge amount of students Hogwarts was now holding.

"Sorting just finished," whispered Seamus from across the table. "At least a hundred students from overseas schools, plus the first years. Don't know if any are in our dormitory yet. And we got a new teacher for Defence. Don't know her name yet."

Harry looked up at the head table, where Snape had just taken a seat, his glance flitting to the Slytherin table with a small, satisfied grin on his face. Harry wondered what Snape was so happy about. He had never seen Snape smile before, and the fact that he chose the night of Hagrid's death to do so angered him. Harry followed Snape's gaze and saw Katherine sitting next to Theodore Nott. She looked up and met Harry's eye and he looked away. He had known she would be in Slytherin. Ron noticed where he was looking.

"Looks like she isn't as good as I thought," he muttered angrily. "Filthy, slimy Slytherins."

Dumbledore however, had remained standing, and the Hall grew silent as the decorations around the hall changed from the usual vibrant colours to black. He began to speak.

"A terrible thing has happened tonight, one which I would never have believed would happen. This is just another indicator of the times. We must do our best to unite under the shadow that threatens to wipe out all happiness that we strive to create. Rubeus Hagrid was a good and honourable man, who played an important role in the war against Voldemort. I ask that you all observe a minutes silence for him."

Dumbledore bowed his head and Harry followed suit. Not a whisper could be heard in the Great Hall and Harry knew that for all the people who said he was nothing but a great big oaf, Hagrid would be greatly missed.

Dumbledore raised his head, glasses glinting in the light.

"Remember what has happened here tonight, but do not forget who it was that caused it."

Dumbledore's gaze flickered over to Harry for a second, as though he were speaking directly to him.

"But now, let us eat and celebrate the memory of our good friend."

And suddenly the speech was over, and Harry thought that that surely couldn't be it. A couple of minutes? Hagrid deserved more.

However, Harry's thoughts of vengeance were driven from his mind by the sight of Ron sitting next to him, and Harry realised he wasn't the only one who was upset by his passing. Ron's morose expression was testament to that.

The food appeared in front of them and Ron slowly began ladling mashed potato onto his plate. Harry looked at the mountains of food but for once, nothing appealed to him. Instead, he turned to the Head table to search for the new Defence teacher.

His eyes fell on a sombre-looking woman (though at the present time all of the teachers looked sombre and serious) with hair that was currently black, though Harry knew that at any other time it would be bright pink.

"Ron, look! It's Tonks!"

"What?" Ron asked, barely glancing up from his meal.

"Tonks! Teaching Defence!"

Ron's head swivelled around to stare up at the head table where Tonks was indeed sitting beside Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout.

"Cool!" he said.

There was little talk in the Great Hall that night, particularly from the Gryffindor table. Harry spent the time silently but studiously detecting all the new students, especially the Slytherins.

Eventually the feast came to a somewhat dispirited end and Dumbledore stood up. The hall fell silent as he began to speak.

"Before you all retire for the night, I have a few last minute messages. As you know, this year we required a new Defence Against The Dark Arts Teacher and through some staffing changes we were able to ensure that this was possible."

Harry frowned. Staffing changes?

"I am pleased to announce that the new Defence Against The Dark Arts Teacher will be none other than Professor Severus Snape. A stunned silence filled the hall and Harry's jaw dropped in shock. Snape sat smirking.

"No way!" Harry said loudly, causing several heads to turn.

Ron had a similar expression of disbelief plastered on his face.

"However, due to certain issues, there will be a slight change with the teaching method this year. Professor Snape will be teaching Senior Defense Against the Dark Arts and Senior Potions, while a new teacher will be teaching those students in the junior years. Please welcome Professor Tonks!"

As Tonks waved to the students, Harry and Ron gazed at each other in horror.

The school year had just gotten a lot worse.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Thankyou to AngelAriel and Dark Syaoran, and all others who reviewed! I apologise for the longer than usual wait but I've been really busy with school etc. and I lost my memory stick with my story on it (how stupid of me). But I'm back on track so keep reading :)**

**Chapter 7: Of Centaurs and Snape**


	7. Of Centaurs and Snape

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 7**

**Of Centaurs and Snape**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

"Harry, mate, wake up!" Ron whispered loudly, roughly shaking Harry awake. He had been having a terrible dream. He fought to regain his breath and looked up at Ron, who was hovering over him in concern.

"Ron," he said hoarsely.

"Are you okay?"

Harry sat up, nodding, and found that he was wide awake.

"Alright then, I'm going back to bed," said Ron. He had long since accepted that Harry had nightmares and knew not to question him until he was ready.

Harry watched Ron crawl back into his bed and waited until the sounds of soft snoring came from him.

Silently swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, Harry fumbled in the dark for his cloak and the map and left the dormitory. On a sudden impulse, his feet carried him to the astronomy tower, in a sudden desire to be outside.

The wind was cold but refreshing and Harry didn't mind it. He could see the Forbidden Forest dimly through the darkness- he was well aware of his new ability to see better in the dark- and all the way to Hagrid's cabin. Harry's heart sank and he felt a rush of anger. He pounded his hand into the wall and spun around, speeding down the stairs.

At the bottom he turned left, his pace slowing as he neared the entrance hall. But suddenly, he stopped. He had heard voices. He backtracked a few metres and saw a faint light issuing from a little-used passage way. Soft voices echoed out of the darkness and Harry slowly began making his way toward them. Long before he reached them he recognised their voices, but could not understand what they were saying.

Snape and, to Harry's immense surprise, Firenze, stood in a shadowy alcove off the passageway and Harry came to a halt beside a stone statue of a horse. The two appeared to be arguing.

"It does not matter," hissed Snape. "It is not what I came here to talk to you of."

"Patience is a virtue," replied Firenze softly, and Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Now is not the time for patience, I need information."

"The centaurs do not meddle in human affairs," replied Firenze softly.

"But you have been banished from your herd, or have you forgotten that. You are no longer part of the centaur society. The rules do not apply to you."

Firenze stamped his foot on the stone floor in irritation.

"Your manner does not persuade me."

Harry listened, ears straining for any hint of sound, and Snape's next words made him freeze.

"I have survived up until now because of my lack of manners. Tell me what you know of Lord V'Ardian."

Harry drew in a sharp breath as Snape finished. There was no reply from Firenze and Harry leaned around the statue to see Firenze contemplating Snape, a severe look on his face.

"I will not speak of such evil things."

Snape sneered.

"But you know who it is?"

"I cannot say, Severus. You know of course that only a vampire with magical abilities can be named a Lord of the V'Ardian clan. It was a mark of their family. They were, and still are, the most powerful clan of the ages. Though I can assure you, I do not believe he will pose any threat to you."

"Tell me why," Snape commanded softly, his voice menacing.

Firenze shook his head slightly and Harry could tell the conversation was over.

"Good night, Severus."

Firenze turned to go, but Snape called after him.

"Wait, damn it! I must find him before the Dark Lord does. You know why we must have him on our side!"

Firenze stopped, looking towards the ceiling as though he could see the night sky.

"You will find him, when the time is right, Severus. You must wait for him to come to you."

Firenze left then, and Harry waited until Snape had stormed off before he moved. He felt dread sitting like a growing bubble in his chest, mutating into all sorts of horrible thoughts. Was he Lord V'Ardian?

He dismissed the thought from his mind. He couldn't be. He wasn't evil.

**oOoOo**

Harry wandered the halls of the castle until he heard the distant sounds of students awakening and going to the Great Hall for breakfast. Uninclined to endure company, he headed off to the kitchens, intent on avoiding the other students.

On arrival however, he was not, as he had thought he would be, enthusiastically greeted by Dobby and the other elves, but met with an ominous silence followed by several squeaky voices demanding he leave at once.

"You should not be here! Please leave!"

"What? Why?" asked Harry.

The house elves glanced at each other in fearful silence.

"Evil!" whispered one, looking up at him as though expecting punishment. Again the little hands began to push him back towards the portrait hole.

Harry began searching the room for the one house elf he knew would help him.

"Dobby!" he shouted when he saw him. Dobby was standing quietly at the back of the group, wringing his hands tearfully. His bat-like ears drooped in sadness, but his eyes were wide.

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is sorry!"

And with that, the housel elves gave a final shove and the portrait was slammed in Harry's face.

_Evil. Evil. Evil. _

The word rang in Harry's mind, repeating itself over and over again.

**oOoOo**

"Harry, why weren't you at breakfast?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged.

"Wasn't hungry. Anything happen?"

"Yeah, I asked McGonagall and she reckons Hermione's gonna be okay. She's still out of it, but she isn't hurt too badly."

Harry nodded, but Ron wasn't finished.

"I swear I'm going to _kill_ Malfoy when he gets out!" he fumed.

Harry looked up, surprised.

"What, he's still at St Mungo's?"

Ron looked at him in concern.

"You really messed him up, Harry. I don't know what you did but I heard McGonagall talking to Dumbledore about it. Snape's furious."

"But I didn't do anything!" Harry defended.

Ron shrugged, not in the mood to argue.

"Whatever. Come on, we've got History of Magic first."

**oOoOo**

Harry immediately zoned out as he stepped into the classroom. He chose his usual seat at the back, preparing for a boring lesson, but when Professore Binns began talking it was in a voice that suggested he was in a very bad mood.

"This year, your lessons will deviate to a certain extent from the normal school curriculum. Normally sixth years study modern history of the wizarding world and although we will be doing this, it will be a different unit to that previously studied. Though this is _not_ my choice," he said, frowning, "the Headmaster feels that it is important for you to know why the state of the wizarding community is as it is."

Harry frowned at the underlying tone in the old ghost's voice. Certainly there was annoyance, possibly at Dumbledore changing his tried and proven lesson plan, but there was also a hint of hesitation, of fear. There was a tense sort of expectation within the waiting students.

"This term we will be studying the rise and fall of the dark arts, and discussing the lives of two of the most well known wizards of our time, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Harry Potter."

Whispers burst out all over the classroom as the Gryffindors turned to look at him. Suddenly he was standing, without knowing how he got there.

"_Excuse me_?" he asked loudly, causing Binns to look up and cease his droning.

"Yes, Perkins?"

Harry snorted in disbelief.

"You can't do that!" he said, as people continued to stare at him.

"I fail to see the problem, Mr Parker, I have permission from the headmaster. Now if you would take a seat, we can begin."

Professor Binns began sorting through his notes, ignoring Harry and Harry again felt an unnatural surge of anger. He wanted to hurt someone. Instead, he grabbed his bag and stalked from the room, ignoring the whispers and stares.

He arrived at Dumbledore's office within minutes and shouted names at the gargoyle until it jumped aside. Harry was furious that Dumbledore would allow something like this without even telling him.

He charged up the golden staircase and arrived in the outer room. Beyond the doors he heard Dumbledore speaking to someone, but when he realised that it was Snape, he opened the doors and stepped in.

"How dare you!" he said.

"Potter!" sneered Snape. "Have some manners and wait outside," he said.

Harry ignored him and looked at Dumbledore who was surveying him over the top of his glasses.

"How dare I what, Harry?" Dumbledore asked calmly. This infuriated Harry. Dumbledore knew exactly what he was talking about.

"You had no right to do that!" Harry hissed.

Snape seemed to understand that he was not needed in this argument and took a step back as though he were observing a play.

"They need to understand, Harry," replied Dumbledore.

"Understand what? They know enough already!"

"This isn't about you, Harry," said Dumbledore firmly. "This is about the students of this school being able to understand why our world is as it is and you are a key part of that reason."

"Don't you understand? I don't want them to know! I don't want my life in the spot light any more than it already is. You didn't even tell me. I had to find out with every other student! I don't want them to know!"

"Why not?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

Harry stared.

"Because… it's an invasion of privacy, that's why!"

At this point, Snape's curiosity seemed to get the better of him.

"If I might interrupt, Albus, but what is Potter complaining about this time?"

Dumbledore glanced at Severus.

"Why don't you tell him, Harry."

"Why bother?" Harry shot back. "He'll find out soon enough."

"I assume he will," Dumbledore replied quietly.

His manner incensed Harry, who took a deep, calming breath.

"Do you know what they're all talking about now? Harry asked quietly. "They're learning about my parents. They're getting to know stuff that even I don't know. It's not right that I should have to find out with all of them. I'm not going to sit in that room and listen to the story of how my parents were murdered. I don't want everyone to be talking about it when I walk past them and whispering about my life behind my back."

"But don't you see, Harry? That is why it is so important. They know you and they will see what is right and what is wrong. At this time especially, they need to understand that."

"But it's not fair!" shouted Harry. Dumbledore was not listening to him. "Are you going to tell them about how I didn't know what magic was until I was eleven? Are you going to tell them how I was abused by my relatives? Are you going to tell them about the prophecy?"

Snape blinked in surprise. Potter hadn't known about magic? He had thought Potter was spoiled by his relatives, not abused.

"If I believe that it is in the best interest of the community then yes, I will tell them about the prophecy, and about the Dursleys. They need to see how good can triumph over adversity."

Harry was livid.

"And what about me, Dumbledore? Am I not allowed any privacy at all?"

"I am afraid, Harry, that that is not your choice to make."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. With a last look at Snape, who wore a satisfied smirk on his face, Harry left his headmaster's office.

**oOoOo**

Harry didn't bother returning to class. His day had gone from bad to worse and he didn't feel like facing any one yet. Instead, he rushed up to his dormitory and scrabbled frantically in his trunk. With a relieved sigh he drew out the old book he had bought on his last trip to Diagon Alley. It had been expensive, but then again, it wasn't easy for someone like him to purchase a book like this.

He opened it and a scrap of paper fluttered out. It was the letter. He had wanted to through it out, badly, but something had held him back and he had neglected to do it.

He read it again.

_Lord V'Ardian, _

_It is most urgent that I speak with you. Reply by this owl. _

Short and to the point. Irritatingly short. He itched to know who it was from and if it was really addressed to him. Or if it was just a big joke.

He placed it carefully inside the back cover and considered the large black book. Most people would be unable to read it, if only for the fact that the pages were all blank. The only writing that appeared on the book was on the cover and it was worn away so that it was almost impossible to read.

Harry had found it in Diagon Alley in a small dusty bookstore of questionable allegiance. When the owner of the bookstore had seen Harry looking at it, he had immediately wandered over, obviously hoping for a good deal. The book had been stuffed away in a disused corner, out of sight of most of the customers. When Harry asked about the book, the wizened old man had replied that no one had been able to translate the script that adorned the front cover and this seemed strange to Harry.

He could read it perfectly well. Immediately a multitude of reasons popped into his head as to why this could be. The first was that it was in parseltongue. The second was that it was in some vampiric tongue and that he could understand it for this reason. He discarded the second idea. There were plenty of vampires around.

Upon coming to the conclusion that the book was written in parseltongue, he had purchased it. The shop keeper greedily asked him for a hefty sum of money, and Harry understood that most of it would pay for the old man's silence.

He had been disappointed when he got home, to open it and find that the pages were blank. It wasn't until a few days later that he had opened it wanting to find something that something had actually appeared.

Quickly after that he had unlocked the key to reading the contents of the book. The book showed him whatever he wished to see. At first he had wished to see defensive spells, but he soon realised that the boko held far darker secrets. And there were not just spells. There was information, thousands of pages worth.

Suddenly Harry had an idea. He wished to see information about himself. Looking down at the book he opened the cover to find a single picture covering the page. It was as though he were looking into a mirror. He saw himself exactly as he was now. But it wasn't just the first page. in the pages that followed was a detailed and thorough explanation of all Harry had ever done.

This seemed strange to Harry. He was only sixteen and this book held information on him, yet it looked as though it were hundreds of years old. A sudden, impossible thought occurred to Harry. Could it be that the book automatically updated itself? If it was true, then this ancient tome could very well hold every piece of information, every spell ever created.

The thought of holding so much knowledge intimidated Harry. Closing the book, he glanced around the dorm, seeing for the first time the two extra beds that now occupied it. One of the boys had come from Africa. Harry didn't know his name. The other was from Durmstrang. His name was William Dashwood. The name itself reeked of pure bloodedness. Placing the book on his sheets, Harry walked to the end of William's bed.

Bending slightly, he lifted the lid of the boy's chest, considering the contents. It appeared to be no darker than his. Less so, in fact. There was nothing to suggest that William would be a threat.

Harry lowered the lid. He glanced over at the other new boy's trunk. He had learnt long ago not to judge by looks alone. Quickly he examined the contents of the second trunk and again he found nothing out of the ordinary. He breathed a heart-felt sigh of relief.

Harry turned around and started as the bell rang, signalling the end of class.

Hurriedly he grabbed the book off of his bed and hid it in his trunk next to the book he had taken from the attic in Grimmauld Place. He realised he hadn't looked through it yet, and vowed to do it later that night. Picking up his timetable he noted with a sinking feeling that he had Defence. Oh, how the fates were cruel, mused Harry.

Rolling his eyes at the thought of what promised to be a terrible lesson, Harry descended the staircase. As Gryffindor tower was closer to their Defence room than History of Magic, Harry found himself waiting outside alone. Surprisingly, their new classroom was on the third floor, not in the dungeons as Harry had thought it might be. Looking around at the still empty corridor, Harry yawned and rubbed his stomach. He regretted missing breakfast, as he was now rather hungry. And he regretted getting up early. He was feeling quite tired. In fact, Harry thought he might be getting sick, though there were no outward symptoms.

Abruptly Harry was brought out of his musings by the arrival of Snape, who acted as though he didn't see Harry. It wasn't until he had unlocked the door and was already in the room that he called out.

"Inside, Potter."

Grudgingly, Harry obeyed, only to find Snape pointing with a bony finger at a seat in front of his desk.

"Sit."

His tone left no room for argument.

Harry bitterly took the directed seat, avoiding eye contact. He doubted the day could get any worse. However, he was left no time to imagine horrible ways of killing Snape, as the man himself was now leaning on Harry's desk, spiteful glare boring into the top of Harry's head.

"On Wednesday and Friday nights you will be learning Occlumency with me. I expect you in my office no later then eight o'clock. And as much as this grieves you, Potter, let me assure you that I dislike it much, much more. Do you understand?" Snape asked softly.

Harry very much wanted to tell Snape that he wouldn't be learning Occlumency with him again, because he was a terrible teacher. He himself doubted he would ever be able to do it. However, if he did succeed, he could not deny that it would be an invaluable skill. And he would do it just to prover Snape wrong.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" Snape hissed angrily.

"Yes, _sir_." Harry repeated, his hands shaking in anger.

Suddenly Snape stood up and Harry wondered why. His question was answered however, as various students began entering the classroom. He noticed with a sinking feeling that they were with the Slytherins. Apparently his day could get worse. With a jolt, Harry realised Malfoy was back, the pale scar shining like a tear drop at the corner of his left eye.

He waited for Ron to enter, and motioned for him to sit next to him. Ron hesitated for a second with a glance at Snape, but took the place next to Harry.

The classroom quickly filled up, though nobody spoke. Harry noticed three new students in Slytherin, all of whom sat with surly faces. He had no time to wonder about them however, as Snape began his usual speech.

"You have all been accepted into NEWT level Defence Against the Dark Arts. Some of you," he glanced at Harry, "do not deserve to be here." Harry felt his ire rise. If there was one subject he was certain he deserved to be in, it was this one. "However," Snape went on softly, "we can only hope that those who are not skilled enough to be here will soon come to understand that fact and leave." Snape's eyes ventured over each student. "This class will not be easy. I fully expect that many of you will fail this term's exams. However, I will assume that you all want to be here, and we will move on. You are old enough to know what I expect."

Snape paused for a moment, his eyes flickering over Harry.

"This semester will be split into the theory and practical sections. In theory, we will be covering curses and their defence and also a short unit on magical creatures. Following that we will move onto a study of the Dark Arts and how to combat them. The practical unit this semester will be a chance for you to put into practice what you have learnt. You will each study the art of duelling and by the end of this year I will expect each of you to have attained a standard worthy of staying in this class.

"Now," his eyes flicked around the room, "everyone stand up."

Immediately everyone stood up and without warning Snape flicked his wand and the desks soared to the sides of the room. Harry noticed that his narrowly missed his head. Another flick over Snape's wand and the students also soared to the sides of the room. All except Harry.

Harry glared at Snape. Snape glared at Harry. Snape raised his wand. Harry dived out of the way.

The charm missed him by inches and Harry thankfully avoided following his class mates through the air. Before Snape could try for a third time, Harry hurried over to stand beside Ron, to the amused chuckles of the Gryffindors. Snape however, seemed not to appreciate this, but refrained, for the moment, from releasing his ire on Harry.

"Today is a double lesson. Double lessons are your practical lesson. I will be gauging your strengths and weaknesses so that I know how many of you are going to fail miserably."

Snape's glare settled on a few select students.

"We will have Gryffindor's against Slytherins, I think. A little rivalry to ensure you try your best. Weasly! Nott! Take your positions!"

"No!" whispered Ron, looking traumatised. With a grin, Harry gave Ron a shove in the back and he stumbled forward, looking at Harry as though he were a traitor.

Suddenly Harry blinked. He had felt dizzy. He shook his head and looked up, to see a muttering Ron stalking back towards him, the Slytherins cheering. Snape had a pleased smirk on his face. Harry shook his head again, confused.

"What happened?" he asked, receiving a glare from Ron.

"Don't pretend you didn't see it! That stupid git hexed me. Something I haven't even heard of!"

"Oh, right," Harry said.

What had happened? Snape called up another pair but Harry wasn't watching. He had suddenly zoned out and missed what was happening. He shook his head to clear the fuzziness out of it, just in time to see Seamus disarm Crabbe.

Harry half-heartedly clapped along with the Gryffindors. He _really_ didn't feel well. He yawned and closed his eyes as Snape called out another name. Harry groaned as a wave of nausea passed over him. Maybe he should go and see Madam Pomfrey.

Harry groaned as the fifth pair finished. They really were pathetic. Half the class had gone and they'd only been duelling for about five minutes. Harry had to admit that the majority of the Slytherins' skills were far superior to the Gryffindors'. Harry sighed in boredom as Goyle and the African boy stepped forward.

"What's that new guy's name?" Harry asked Ron.

"Azi Shaka. His father's the African Minister of Magic," Ron replied in a whisper.

Harry nodded.

A second later Goyle burst out in boils and fell to the floor whimpering. With a sneer, Snape muttered the anti-curse and Goyle returned to his place in the circle amid cheers from the Gryffindors. Harry looked around and realized with an unpleasant jolt that he was the only one left. Well, him and Malfoy.

"Potter, Draco," said Snape.

Harry stepped forward slowly. He really wasn't feeling well enough to duel, especially against Malfoy. He took his position and realised that Snape had been planning this all along. He felt another wave of dizziness pass over him. What was wrong with him?

"Bow," ordered Snape.

Malfoy barely inclined his head, but Harry bowed long and low. Malfoy looked surprised and sneered at Harry, who merely raised his wand.

"Are you afraid, Draco?" Harry asked quietly.

Malfoy sneered, but Snape began talking.

"No harmful curses, only those you have learnt in school. Begin."

"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled, a second before stepping to the side. The spell Malfoy had fired at him missed him by a long way, but Malfoy was forced to conjure a shield. Harry grinned at the euphoria and adrenalin that was flooding his system. Concentrating, he murmured his next spell.

"Stupefy!"

A beam of red light shot out of his wand, directly at Malfoy. Malfoy smirked, confident because of his shield. Harry gave a small smile as Malfoy's shield shattered under his spell and Malfoy sank to the floor, unconscious.

It had all been over so quickly that half the students didn't even realise it was over until Snape let out a growl of frustration and stalked over to Malfoy.

"Enervate," he muttered. Malfoy's eyes flickered opened and he sat up, blearily rubbing his face. When he realised what had happened the look on his face became one of incensed fury. Snape stood back up and went back to his place in the circle.

"This class is not s joke," he said softly. "None of you would last five minutes with a Death Eater, should the need arise."

Harry snorted in disbelief, but Ron seemed to take more offence to this than Harry did.

"Harry has!" he said boldly.

Harry glared at Ron and then looked at Snape, who was sneering at Harry. Suddenly a great smirk filled his face.

"Very well. If Mr Potter thinks he is so…adept….at duelling, we will try again. Mr Malfoy, come here."

Malfoy swept over to Snape, his face still a brilliant red from having been beaten. Snape whispered something in his ear and an evil grin crossed his face before he turned back to Harry.

"Ready, Scarhead?" he murmured as he passed Harry. Harry smiled and whispered back.

"Ready to give you another scar."

Malfoy spun round abruptly and Harry saw the scar up close. It was identical to the one that lay on his own arm.

Harry stepped back to his position and Malfoy did the same. Again Snape gave pointers to the class.

"Sometimes there are spells that will help you that may not necessarily need to touch your opponent," he said. "Begin."

Before Harry could say a thing, Malfoy pointed his wand at himself and whispered a spell. A gasp went up around the room, but Harry could see nothing different.

Malfoy wore a huge grin as he quickly stepped to the side and began circling around Harry. Suddenly Harry felt another wave of nausea pass over him. The surrounding students were whispering excitedly, pointing. Snape was smirking happily at Harry.

Confused, Harry turned to face Malfoy and raised his wand.

"Expelliarmus!"

With a small 'oh' of surprise, Malfoy's wand soared out of his hand and landed in Harry's outstretched palm. There was a collective gasp from the watching students and Harry could have sworn he heard Snape growl.

"How did you do that, Potter?" Malfoy demanded, stepping closer. Harry shrugged, but then it hit him. No one else had been able to see Malfoy. Snape stepped next to them and ended the charm on Malfoy.

"Yes, how Potter?" Snape murmured.

"Er, I heard his footsteps. He was stumbling around like a great oaf."

The class laughed and Malfoy blushed. Snape frowned and turned to the rest of the class.

"As you can see, your eyes are not your only asset in a duel. However, an experienced or well-trained duellist will also learn that just because he is invisible does not mean he is invincible. All of you need to work on your duelling skills. A proper duel should be able to go for at least a few minutes, and it is important that you employ all of your available skill to meet the desired end."

But suddenly, someone interrupted Snape. It was Seamus.

"Sir, is it true that Harry duelled five Death Eaters at once?"

Harry frowned at Seamus and Snape's lip curled, but then he smirked.

"Let's find out, shall we?" he said, before scanning the Slytherin students.

"Malfoy, Ruiz, Bullstrode, Nott and Winters. You will all duel Potter, to prove to the rest of the class that he is no better than anyone else here."

"I'd rather not," Harry said shortly, glaring at Snape as he swayed slightly with dizziness. With the exception of Malfoy, they were the Slytherins that had won their own duels.

Snape sneered.

"Scared, Potter?" he asked softly. "Just do the best you can and it will all be over quickly."

Harry glared.

"I'm not feeling well, _sir_."

"Nonsense, Potter. You will duel."

Snape stepped back and the five Slytherins arranged themselves in front of Harry. Harry shot a filthy glare at Seamus, who grinned back, clearly delighted with the situation.

Harry returned his gaze to the Slytherins not a moment to soon as Snape gave the signal to begin. Harry immediately stunned Millicent Bullstrode and conjured a shield to deflect the other four curses, ignoring the urge to sit down or faint. Immediately the remaining student spread themselves in a circle around Harry. He dropped his shield and rolled, shooting a charm at Avery, who fell to the floor as dozens of ropes twined round him. Harry narrowly dodged a stunning hex from Malfoy and dashed towards Katherine.

Katheirne stepped back in surprise as Harry jumped at her, snatching her wand and flinging it across the classroom. The move made Harry sway slightly. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Not a second later, and with a murmured sorry, Harry grabbed a fistful of Katherine's robes and pulled her in from of him, just in time to take another stunning hex. The students laughed as Katherine fell to the ground and Harry immediately disarmed a stunned Malfoy. Harry wondered how he could ever have been the Slytherin champion in second year. He was terrible.

Harry turned back to the only Slytherin left, Ruiz. He was new, from Durmstrang, and Harry slowly stepped away from him. Ruiz had done well in his duel against Dean and Harry knew he was the one to watch.

"Reducto!" shouted Ruiz, but Harry side-stepped it easily.

And suddenly it was on. Harry and Ruiz began trading spells as though there were no tomorrow. Harry caught Ruiz with a stinging hex and Ruiz replied with a weak banishing charm that sent Harry back a few paces. The spell left Harry feeling light-headed and he stumbled as he stood up. The Slytherins laughed but the Gryffindors looked at him in concern.

Harry shook his head to clear it and dodged a disarming spell.

Then came a pause in the duel as both Harry and Ruiz evaluated their positions, returning warily to opposite ends of the duelling area. Harry was panting slightly and Ruiz wore a satisfied grin, obviously confident he was winning. Suddenly his smile turned into a smirk and he raised his and. Harry replied by doing the same.

"_Serpensortia!_" Ruiz yelled and Harry lowered his wand, a sudden feeling of mirth flooding him. A grey snake burst from Ruiz's wand and landed on the floor in front of Harry, wriggling towards him and hissing menacingly.

And then Harry laughed. It started as a small chuckle, deep in his stomach, getting louder as he approached the snake. Ruiz, Harry realised, didn't know he could talk to snakes. He lowered his wand and watched in shock as Harry bent and picked the snake up. The snake curled around his neck as Harry stopped laughing and glared at Ruiz, holding the head of the snake next to his mouth.

Ruiz paled then, as Harry began hissing at the snake, a harsh sort of breathing sound that left the occupants of the room trembling in fear. It was a scary sound. Then, suddenly, it stopped. Harry lowered the snake slowly to the ground, his glare never leaving Ruiz. As soon as it touched the ground, the snake shot at Ruiz, who stepped back in alarm. He shot a curse at the snake but missed, and tripped over the hem of his robes. Harry followed the snake over to Ruiz, where the boy lay cowering in fear, the snake raised up on his chest, hissing venomously.

He bent down and picked the snake up, transferring it to the floor. Ruiz looked up at him in fear and Harry smiled.

"Stupefy," he said, his voice the only sound in the silent room. Harry stepped back shaking his head again to clear it, but he was given no time.

"What was that, Potter?" hissed Snape, reviving Ruiz, who scuttled away from Harry as quickly as he could. "Class dismissed!" yelled Snape, before turning back to Harry. "You will stay behind."

Harry watched the other students leave and motioned for Ron to wait outside the door. Snape slammed the door behind the last student and Harry wearily took a seat. He wanted nothing better than to get out of here and go to sleep.

For the second time that day, Harry found Snape towering over him, a look of fury on his face.

"Why did you do that, Potter?" he breathed.

Harry shrugged.

"The guy shot a snake at me. You told us to use all of our available skills. I told the snake to-"

"You told that snake to attack him!"

"No!" said Harry indignantly. "I told it to scare him, but not to harm him. Do you really think I'm stupid, Snape?"

Snape drew in a deep breath.

"You will address me as _sir_, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," replied Harry dutifully. He stood up. "Can I go now?"

"Very well," sneered Snape, and Harry began walking over to his books. Halfway there however, the dizziness overcame his sense of balance and he dropped to his knees. He heard Snape sigh in disgust.

"Get up Potter, for goodness sake. What is wrong with you?"

"I _told_ you I wasn't feeling well," replied Harry through gritted teeth. He tried to stand up but overbalanced again and landed on his hands and knees, panting heavily. At this point in time, Snape seemed to begin believing him and become concerned.

With an exasperated sigh he knelt down next to Harry.

"Potter, you must tell me what is wrong so I can help you," said Snape, sounding as though that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I'll just go to the hospital wing," gasped out Harry.

"Very well. Can you walk?"

Harry nodded, but waiting a second before standing up. He swayed on the spot but Snape grabbed his arm to prevent him from falling. Harry fought the urge to wrench his arm out of Snape's grasp and took a few steps. He grabbed his books off the desk and Snape let go of him.

As soon as the contact with Snape ended, Harry blacked out.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Please review! Thankyou to everyone who has reviewed! More chapters coming soon!**

**Chapter 8: Of Illness and Innocence**


	8. Of Illness and Innocence

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 8**

**Of Illness and Innocence**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated for a few days because I've been away. Thankyou so much to Dark Syaoran! I don't want to give anything away but some of your ideas may be correct. As to your question about the creatures in the forest...well, I hadn't originally planned on Hagrid dying and if he hadn't you would have met them. But I'll work it in somehow :)**

**oOoOo**

Harry felt like crap.

There were no other words to describe the feeling of complete and utter exhaustion and fatigue. He wouldn't even bother going into the emotional aspects of what he was feeling. Slowly, as though he would rather not, Harry opened his eyes to see the real world. Surprisingly, the first thing he saw was Hermione.

Groaning in annoyance he rolled over and found his glasses, and the world came into focus. What he saw made him grin. It wasn't just Hermione. Ron was there, too. They were both asleep, Hermione's head lolling on Ron's shoulder.

Harry looked out the window and saw that it was night. He wondered how long he had been out of it, and when Hermione had gotten back. With a sigh he tried sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the bed, intent on finding Madam Pomfrey. And found he couldn't move.

He tried again, but his limbs refused to obey his brain. He felt a pressure on his legs and arms and looked down to see thick white straps holding him to the bed. Suddenly he became alarmed. He began struggling, but the straps wouldn't budge.

"Ron, Hermione!" he gasped, fighting to dislodge himself from the restraints. Why had they done this to him?

But it was okay, because Ron and Hermione had woken up now. They would help him. But when they turned to him, there faces were full of sadness.

"Guys, what's going on? Help me!"

But Hermione slowly shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but we're not allowed."

"What? Why not?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"There's something wrong with you, mate," said Ron, looking almost fearfully at Harry.

"No there's not!" said Harry, becoming frustrated. He began to yell. "There's nothing wrong with me! Let me out of here!"

Harry was silenced by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey, who had a cross look on her face.

"Now, now, Mr Potter. Do you want to wake everyone up?" she fussed.

"I want to see Dumbledore!" Harry requested.

"I am here, Harry," came the headmaster's weary voice. Harry snapped his head around to see Dumbledore sitting in a chair on the opposite side of his bed, Snape standing behind him.

"Sir? What's happening? Why can't I go?" Harry asked.

"Because you are evil."

"Evil," repeated Snape.

"You're killing me, Harry!" said Dumbledore. "I'm dying because of you! Because of evil!"

Harry looked beseechingly at his friends.

"Ron? Hermione? I'm not evil! Please, you have to believe me!"

Bu they looked away and someone forced Harry's head towards them. Snape was standing over him, a flask of dark, red liquid suspended over him. He forced Harry's jaw open and began to pour it in. It was thick, metallic tasting, and Harry suddenly knew what it was. He coughed, choking as he tried to prevent it going down his throat. He thrashed his head wildly out of Snape's grasp, causing the red liquid to pour over his neck and onto the sheets. He heard Madam Pomfrey mutter about the mess.

"No! I don't want it!"

Harry choked and spluttered as the potion slid greasily down his throat. He opened his eyes to see Snape standing over him. Then he realised there was no one else there except Madam Pomfey. He coughed again and sat up, trying to clear his throat. It had all been a dream. He looked frantically around but found that he could move freely, and he relaxed.

Snape looked sourly on, wiping his hands free of a green potion with a cloth, as Madam Pomfrey cleaned the mess on Harry's face and bed.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, looking at Snape.

"It is nearly midnight," Snape replied.

"What happened?" Harry frowned. He couldn't remember. Images from the nightmare still filled his head.

"You collapsed while I was bringing you here. You have been unconscious since then."

"I feel fine now," said Harry, looking at Madam Pomfrey.

"You can leave in the morning," she said firmly, tucking the sheets in. Harry grimaced.

"Is that all you require, Poppy?" asked Snape.

"Yes, thankyou, Severus," she replied, smiling warmly at him.

Snape swept from the room and Madam Pomfrey gave him another potion. He drank it down quickly and seconds later, fell asleep.

**oOoOo**

When Harry woke up, the first thing he did was check that the restraints were really a figment of his imagination. With relief, he found that he could move, and opened his eyes. Only to see Hermione, her head lolling on Ron's shoulder. Harry froze, his eyes darting around the room. No Snape. No Dumbledore. He sat up and reached for his glasses.

"Ron? Hermione?"

Hermione darted awake, staring at Harry.

"Oh, Harry! I'm so glad you're alright!" she enthused. She enveloped him in a warm hug.

"When did you get back?" Harry asked, checking her for signs of injury. There were none.

"Last night. We weren't allowed to come and see you until this morning. What happened?"

Harry shrugged.

"Nothing really. I just felt sick, that's all. How about you? What did Malfoy do to you?"

Hermione's face grew stony and she shook her head.

"I don't want to talk about it."

**oOoOo**

Over the next few days, Harry began to get steadily worse. He had bags under his eyes and Hermione said he was looking pale. He had taken to wearing glamour, if only to avoid questions about how he was feeling.

It was on Wednesday night, just before he was due for his Occlumency lesson with Snape that the letter came. It was written by the same person, but again it had no signature. He unrolled it slowly, hoping to be proven wrong, but it was addressed to the same person.

_Lord V'Ardian, _

_I regret that you did not reply sooner. It is imperative that I speak with you urgently. Reply by this owl with your name, so that I may visit you. _

But Harry would do no such thing. Tucking the letter in his pocket, he headed off in the direction of the dungeons. He entered the Potions classroom to find that Snape was not there, so he took a seat and pulled out the letter. It showed no clue as to who it was from. It was written on standard parchment, like the type they used at Hogwarts, with plain black ink.

Harry considered the words. Why was it so important for this person to speak to him? Or was the whole thing just a big joke?

Harry jerked his head up as the door banged opened and Snape stormed in. he stopped, looking down at Harry, who quickly his the letter under the table.

"What is that, Potter?" he snarled.

"Nothing."

"Do not lie to me!" Snape sneered. "Show it to me!"

"It's a letter. It's private" said Harry angrily.

Snape scowled and raised his wand.

"Accio!"

The letter flew out of Harry's hand.

"No!" he yelled. He stretched out his hand after it.

Just as it touched Snape's fingers, the letter burst into flame, reduced to a pile of ashes that fluttered slowly to the floor.

Snape looked at his hand and swore, looking at Harry in astonishment.

"You did that?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. In all honesty, he wasn't sure he had. He supposed he could have, because he's done wandless magic before when he was particularly desperate or emotional.

Snape frowned and turned away.

"In my office, Potter."

The lesson wasn't as big a disaster as Harry had thought it might be. He successfully avoided Snape's attempts to break into his mind twice, though on other tries he failed spectacularly. When he left he was tired and worn out. He slowly made his way back to Gryffindor tower, taking the lesser travelled routes to avoid people.

He jumped when a figure stepped out of the shadows ahead of him.

"Hello, Katherine."

"Harry."

"I'm sorry about the other day. In Defence. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't. You're a very good duellist."

"I have to be," Harry replied.

She didn't reply, and an awkward silence followed.

"How do you like Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"I like it very much," Katherine smiled.

Harry nodded.

"It was the first place I ever really felt comfortable," he said. "My relatives didn't exactly want me around."

"The innocent are always the first to suffer," Katherine said quietly.

"Yes," said Harry. And how have you suffered? He desperately wanted to know about her, about her history, but he knew if he asked, she wouldn't reply.

"Well, I'll see you around, I guess," said Harry.

"Goodbye, Harry," said Katherine.

Harry passed her and continued on his way, only to hear another set of voices up ahead. To his surprise, it was Professors Snape and McGonagall, whispering hurriedly.

"We can't ignore this, Severus. Albus may not be here much longer. We need to make preparations."

"Minerva, you are over reacting-"

"Albus is sick, Severus. He is old. He has many enemies. None of those encourage a longer life," McGonagall said.

Harry froze. Was it true? Was Dumbledore dying? Harry remembered his dream. The coincidence was unnerving. Deciding to take his chances, he stepped out into the corridor and stopped.

Snape and McGonagall stopped talking, looking up in alarm, guilty expressions on their faces.

"Potter," said Snape.

"Mr Potter, what are you doing here?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"I was going back to Gryffindor tower," said Harry.

Professor McGonagall fixed him with a beady eye.

"Well, off you go then, Mr Potter." She turned to Snape. "Good day, Severus."

With that, professor McGonagall turned and left. Harry quickly followed her.

**oOoOo**

On the notice board in the common room, Harry saw something that made him feel good, for the first time in a long while.

Quidditch trials were on tomorrow. Harry grinned at Ginny as she walked up to him.

"Are you going to try out for seeker?" she asked.

"Well, I suppose if you aren't…" replied Harry.

"Of course not, Harry. I was only filling in for you." She shook her head. "That foul Umbridge woman. No, I'm going to try out for chaser."

Then Harry grinned.

"Of course, even if you wanted to be seeker, I could just kick you off the team."

Gonny looked confused.

"What do you mean, Harry?" she asked. Then her face split into a huge grin.

"You're the captain!" she almost squealed and Harry grinned widely.

"Sure am, but don't tell Ron. I want it to be a surprise."

Ginny dashed forward and hugged him.

"We've all been wondering who it was!" she said, beaming.

"Well, don't tell anyone just yet. They can wait till tomorrow to find out."

Ginny nodded vigorously.

"Of course."

She turned to go, but then remembered something.

"Are you going to start the DA up again, Harry?" Ginny asked. Harry frowned. He hadn't thought about that at all. He had just assumed it would all be over after Umbridge left, but now he seriously considered it. It would be a good idea.

"You think I should?" he asked.

Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

"Definitely!"

"All right, then. Do you still have the coin Hermione gave you?"

"Yep, kept it just in case."

"Well I guess I'll do it then. I'll see you around."

"Sure, see you, Harry!"

Harry smiled and turned to finish reading the notices on the board. As he read however, his thoughts drifted back to what he had heard about Dumbledore. He didn't want to think about what would happen if Dumbledore died.

Harry knew then that he had to go and see him. He had to find a way to save him.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: A short chapter with a lot of important things! REVIEW! Keep reading! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far!**

**Chapter 9: Of Death and Deception**


	9. Of Death and Deception

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 9**

**Of Death and Deception**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Quidditch try-outs were amazing. Harry was well received as the new captain of the Gryffindor team and the news spread fast. About thirty students turned up as hopefuls, but Harry had no trouble choosing the new team. Ginny, of course, was a chaser, as was Katie. The third chaser turned out to be a surprise, but was skilful nonetheless. As Harry watched him zoom around the pitch, Harry quickly realised that Seamus was extremely gifted on a broom, and had a deadly aim. Ron scored the keeper position again, and the beater positions went to a seventh year name Morgan Tibbs and a third year name Amelia Tudor.

Harry felt the happiest he had been in ages as he soared through the air, though the brightness of the sun irritated his eyes a bit. After the team was decided they had a short practice, only finishing when it got too dark to play. As the rest of the team headed back to the castle, Harry stayed in the air, enjoying the peace and quiet. He looked out over the forest and stared in surprise. It looked different. Nothing he could pinpoint directly, it just seemed to have a different…feel about it. A different aura.

Curious, he changed direction and, with a last glance back at the castle, shot off over the trees. He skimmed low over the treetops, revelling in the quiet. It was absolutely silent- not even a breath of wind disturbed the leaves of the vast trees. Ahead of him were the remnants of the sunset, brilliant reds streaking the sky like blood. Above him a lone star shone through the waning light, its glow obvious even at this time. Maybe it was Mars.

Suddenly ahead of him, Harry saw a magnificent sight. He gasped as he shot over a sheer cliff, rock walls tumbling down for hundreds of metres. Slowing down, he circled around the vast expanse of open space, taking in the beauty of it. Small trees, like bonsais sprouted out of the cliff face, and there seemed to be a narrow track leading down to the bottom. On the side he had come over was a magnificent waterfall, it clear water tumbling straight down. The opposite end of the canyon was open, allowing the water to run through.

Harry turned again, but stopped when he saw a distant figure hovering over the forest. He was low in the treetops and Harry wasn't even sure he ahd seen him. However, with a last look at the oasis in the middle of the wild forest, Harry shot towards the figure. The figure turned on their broom and dashed away, but even at this distance there was no mistaking that blond hair.

"Malfoy!" Harry bellowed, but the wind was not in his favour. By the time Harry got back to the castle, Malfoy was nowhere in sight. Sighing, he hurried up to his dorm and locked his Firebolt in his cupboard. Running a hand through his sweaty hair, he headed for the showers. He sighed in relief as he remembered he had the same privileges as prefects and headed off to the prefects bathroom. He ran a deep warm bath with plenty of bouncing purple bubbles, ignoring the giggling mermaid on the wall. The warm water soothed his aching muscles, relaxing him.

He had been so tired lately, probably from keeping the glamour up all the time. But as much as he tried to tell himself he was fine, he knew he wasn't. He knew what he needed, and he knew why he was constantly craving something. He knew he needed blood, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

It unnerved him in the corridors when he was walking along and he would suddenly smell the scent of fresh, healthy blood. The urge was animalistic and instant and many times he had nearly given into it. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. Couldn't be evil.

**oOoOo**

He must have fallen asleep, because when he came to, all of the bubbled had disappeared and the water was cold. Heaving himself out and pulling the plug, Harry dried himself off and dressed quickly. It would be just his luck to get caught out after curfew by Snape.

He grabbed his stuff and hurried up the corridor, racing for Gryffindor tower. He had barely turned the first corner however, when a sharp pain pierced his forehead. He gasped in sudden pain, letting images flood his mind. He knew that this was what he was learning Occlumency for, but right now he was tired and the curiosity overwhelmed the urge to avoid danger. He felt his knees give way and hit the hard stone floor as he glimpsed a place he was sure he'd seen nearby. He heard screams, explosions, bright light. And then he saw a building, the door open and the inside a mess. An old man with a long bear stood stoicly aat the counter, wand outstretched as three Death Eaters bore down upon him.

With a grunt of effort, Harry wrenched his mind away from Voldemort's, banishing the sick happiness he was feeling. He lunged to his feet and ran, heading for the staff room. Before he got there, he met Professor McGonagall.

"Professor!" he gasped, skidding to a halt in front of her. "There's been an attack! In Hogsmeade!"

Professor McGonagall stared at him.

"You're sure, Potter?"

Harry nodded.

McGonagall's lips formed a taut line.

"Very well, Mr Potter. Return to your dormitory."

Harry nodded and waited as Professor McGonagall swept away. Harry's good mood quickly plummeted and he did as he was told. He glumly turned around and began heading back the way he had come, but bumped into someone.

He looked up, about to apologize, but smiled instead.

"Tonks!"

"Wotcher, Harry," she replied, but she didn't sound her usual cheerful self. In fact, Harry thought she might be sick. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin looked clammy.

"Are you okay?" he asked in concern.

"Fine, Harry. Just had a lot of work to do. How about you? Are you okay?"

Harry nodded.

"I think there's been a Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade," he said quickly.

Tonks eyes flew open.

"What?"

"Just now, I um, well I kind of saw it."

"Have you told anyone?" Tonks asked, agitated.

"I just saw Professor McGonagall," Harry replied.

Tonks looked alarmed.

"I have to go, Harry. I'll se you later!"

"See you."

Strange, thought Harry. Tonks seemed a bit out of it, not her usual vibrant self. Then again, who was he to be the judge of that when he wasn't himself either?

**oOoOo**

"I regret to inform you that there has been a Death Eater attack on Hogsmeade," said Professor McGonagall to the assembled Gryffindors. Harry reclined in a lounge chair, eyes closed. "There were…a number of deaths. The full amount has yet to be decided, but we are sure that nobody of any relation to a student or teacher at this school came to harm.

_Except Aberforth Dumbledore_, Harry thought to himself.

He waited until Professor McGonagall had finished and hurried up to the dormitory. Pulling the curtains around the bed firmly closed, he pulled the book towards him.

_I need to know what's happening to Dumbledore_, he thought. He opened the book slowly and found the answer on the first page. A picture showed a weary-looking Dumbledore lying in bed. The caption below it told Harry all he needed to know.

_Albus Dumbledore was injured by a minor necrocurse in a battle against Lord Voldemort at the British Ministry of Magic. His health is steadily growing worse. _

The book went on to describe the details of Dumbledore's illness, but Harry didn't bother reading it. He closed it.

_I need to know how to apparate. _

He opened the cover quickly this time and saw a step by step guide on how to apparate. It looked hard. He turned the page to find a detailed history on apparition. With an irritated sigh he flipped through the notes until he came to the very last page of the book. It seemed to be an alternate method for apparition, and Harry read through it, intrigued.

It was a spell, but it was not an ordinary one. It was a parseltongue spell. He lowered the book to the mattress and raised his wand.

"_Intransio_," he muttered, but it came out as a hiss. He blinked and stared at the bed where he had been sitting a moment before.

"Interesting," he muttered. This form of apparition was possible within Hogwart's ward, while the normal form was not. Harry doubted that Voldemort had knowledge of this charm, as he had yet to penetrate Hogwart's barriers in any way. This spell could be very useful indeed.

He apparated back to the bed but heard someone coming up the stairs. He quickly shoved the book away and looked up to see Ron.

"Hey, Harry! Ginny told me that you're starting up the DA again!"

"Yeah, I am," Harry replied, stretching out on his bed. "Thursdays, do you think? And Saturdays?"

At Ron's assent, Harry set about changing the time and date on the large gold coin that Hermione had supplied him with.

Minutes later he fell asleep, tired but pleased.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Exciting chapters to come! Please REVIEW!**

**Chapter 10: Of Discussions and Daydreams**


	10. Of Discussions and Daydreams

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 10**

**Of Discussions and Daydreams**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Harry yawned and briefly waved his wand over his face, now in the habit of automatically placing glamour charms on himself upon waking. It was a moment before he realised that it was the weekend, and that he could have slept longer. With a silent sigh, he heaved himself out of bed to see his six dorm mates still sleeping.

In the days since the attack on Hogsmeade the teachers, specifically those who were members of the Order, had been in a hectic and anxious state. Harry pulled his robes over his head and walked to the window, surprised to see that the sun had barely risen. He could dimly see Hagrid's empty hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Dumbledore was rarely seen at meals anymore and Harry wondered just how sick the headmaster really was. He ached to know what was going on, but nobody would tell him anything. They refused to let him join the Order, but he had more right than anyone to be a member. He left the dorm and headed down the stairs and out of the portrait hole, walking quickly and silently. The halls were still empty; people wouldn't be up for another few hours yet.

His footsteps took him to the Owlery, where he summoned Hedwig from her perch. He drew a letter from his robes and attached it to her leg and she flew off with a friendly nip. Glancing around and drawing a second, smaller letter from his pocket he summoned an anonymous-looking school owl. He attached the letter with a piece of string, whispering to the owl.

"Return to sender," he whispered, hoping the owl would understand. Luckily, it seemed the owl did, as it hooted and shot off into the air in a whirl of loose feathers. The letter had been a reply to the ones he had been receiving. He had finally decided to do something about them, having received another after the attack on Hogsmeade.

His reply had been a simple invitation for more correspondence, as he refused to give his name or meet with whoever was sending the letters. As he left the Owlery he thought about the odd behaviour of Tonks over the last few weeks. She was looking almost as ill as he felt, and they rarely talked as they once had.

Harry took his time walking from the Owlery. Over the last few weeks his late-night and early-morning wanderings had become more and more frequent- he hardly ever slept for more than a few hours at a time anymore. He didn't feel the need to. The corridors were always silent at this hour, so it was a surprise when Harry heard a sudden scuffle and found himself pinned against the wall, the scowling and scarred face of Draco Malfoy obscuring his vision.

Harry hadn't spoken to Malfoy since the incident on the train, though he had known a confrontation was inevitable.

"What did you do to me, Potter?" he hissed, a look of hate contorting his features.

Harry roughly shoved him back and straightened his robes. He glared at Malfoy, taking in the sight of the scar up close for the first time. It stood out slightly from the rest of his skin, shiny and red against his pale skin.

Harry felt a strange sense of triumph at what he had done and sneered at Malfoy.

"Nothing more than you deserved, Malfoy. You have to learn that you can't go around hurting my friends."

Malfoy launched himself at Harry, grabbing the hem of his robes and forcing him back against the stone wall. A pointy stone jabbed Harry in the back.

"Take it off me!" Malfoy ordered, almost pleadingly.

"I don't know how," said Harry, glaring down at Malfoy.

"I want it off, Potter! I want to know what you did to me. Do you know that not even Dumbledore could get it off?"

"Dumbledore tried?" Harry asked, confused. Dumbledore hadn't said a word to him about it.

"Of course he did! They didn't even take me to St Mungo's. When I woke up I was in some dilapidated room with a portrait that screamed incessantly outside my door."

Harry felt himself getting angry. They had no right to let a Malfoy into Grimmauld Place, into Sirius' house without his permission. Why would they take a Death Eater to the head quarters of the Order of the Phoenix?

"Why didn't they take you to St Mungo's?" Harry asked.

"Why do you think, Potter? Do you know what this is on my face? It's a curse scar. What do you think they'd say if they found out it was Harry Potter who put it there?"

"Well then I suppose it's lucky for you that I put that scar there in the first place, isn't it?"

"What are you talking about, Potter?"

"I saw that curse that you threw at Hermione. That was a Dark curse. You're lucky that you have something to bargain with to stay out of Azkaban."

Malfoy paled but laughed in Harry's face.

"You're pathetic, Potter. Do you really think _I_ would go to Azkaban?" he asked softly.

"Your father did," Harry replied shortly.

Malfoy's face hardened and he shoved Harry harder. But Harry was angry. With almost unnatural strength he shoved Malfoy away from him so that he fell, sprawling backwards on the floor. His breath was knocked out of him and he lay there winded for a moment as Harry drew out his wand and pointed it at him.

"Look, Malfoy, I really don't have time for you. I don't know how I put that scar there and I don't know how to get rid of it. If anything it might teach you some modesty. Now unless you came to talk to me fro another reason, I suggest you leave."

Malfoy sneered and pulled himself into a more dignified position.

"I want to make a deal with you," he said, somewhat mulishly.

Harry laughed in his face.

"I don't make deals with Death Eaters, Malfoy." he sneered.

Malfoy paled but went on determinedly.

"I'm not a Death Eater," he said.

Harry raised an eyebrow in disbelief and before Malfoy could object or move away, Harry had gripped his wrist tightly and ripped back his sleeve.

"You know you really should be more careful," said Harry, throwing the marked arm away from him in disgust.

Malfoy sneered and yanked his sleeve down, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

"You don't know what you're dealing with, Potter," he muttered.

"Right, that's what you said to Borgin, isn't it?"

Malfoy looked up in surprise.

"How do you know about that?" he asked.

"What were you doing in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked. "What do you need fixed?"

"You followed me, didn't you, Potter? Of course, my father told me he saw you there, with Katherine. How dare you follow me!"

So Malfoy was in Diagon Alley that day, Harry thought with a sense of relief.

Malfoy and Harry stood glaring at each other, neither wanting to give in to the other.

"What is this deal?" Harry asked, guardedly.

Malfoy seemed to consider him for a moment.

"Well, the way I see it, Potter, I have things that I can give you, and you have things you can give me. I propose a pact, between the two of us."

"And what will this pact involve?" Harry asked cautiously. As much as he disliked Malfoy, the concept of a pact with someone so close to Voldemort was intriguing.

"Simple. I'll give you information and when the war is over you tell everyone I wasn't working for Voldemort."

Harry snorted in disbelief. The opportunity of information was extremely tempting, however.

"It isn't that easy, Malfoy."

"Why not?"

"Well, simply because I don't trust you and you've given me no evidence that I could ever trust you."

"Then I'll give you proof," said Malfoy abruptly.

"When?"

"You'll see," said Malfoy. With those words, he turned, seemingly satisfied and began walking off.

Harry yelled after him.

"I'll think about it."

**oOoOo**

Harry sat at the back of their history of Magic classroom. Until now, the lessons hadn't been to revealing about Harry's life. They had talked about previous Dark Lords and their slayers in brief, and the generic history of the Dark Arts. Today's lesson however, marked a change in the status of Harry's privacy. He tiredly adjusted his glasses, which he wore only for the purpose of dissuading extra attention and stared gloomily up at Professor Binns as he began his monotonous monologue.

One day, thought Harry, he would be rid of this excuse for a life and be able to live freely and without attention, but until he killed Voldemort, that life was nonexistent. A daydream. Harry yawned and stared stubbornly down at his desk as Professor Binns began talking about his parents.

"Harry Potter was born on the 31st of July, to Lily and James Potter, who played a vital role in the first rising of He-Who-Must-not-Be-Named. Both," and here a picture appeared on the board next to Professor Binn's head, depicting a happily smiling couple on their wedding day, "were members of a secret organisation fighting against the Dark Lord and in their time they defied him three times. Their lives ended however, when they were betrayed by James Potter's best friend, Sirius Black, who was their secret keeper at the time."

Harry felt his eyes become blurry with tears at the same time as he swelled with indignant anger. Could they not get their facts right? Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ron and Hermione looking at him nervously, thought Hermione was intermittently scribbling notes.

"Harry Potter is thought to have survived the killing curse because of the charms placed on him by his mother, and the love she felt for him."

But lately, Harry was having trouble believe that that was true. Countless other mothers would have done exactly the same thing for their children and it seemed unlikely to Harry that the only thing protecting him were a few charms.

Harry knitted his brows together and kept his gaze glued stubbornly to the desk as the class heard the details of his parent's deaths. At some point during the lesson, Harry wasn't quite sure when, he got up and walked out. There was no point listening; he knew it all already.

At dinner that night, Harry got even worse news. Professor McGonagall delivered it to them, as Dumbledore was again mysteriously away. Due to the concerns over the safety of Hogwarts, the parents of the sixth year students had been invited to the castle for a four-day stay, to happen during the first game of the Quidditch season.

"Great," muttered Harry.

"You don't think the Dursleys will come, do you, Harry?" whispered Hermione.

Harry glowered darkly at the table.

"I hope not," he spat vehemently, causing Hermione to recoil slightly.

"You know it's not us who are trying to hurt you, Harry, so we'd like it if you didn't treat us like we were."

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his ruffled hair.

"I'm sorry, guys. I'm just not feeling well," he said.

"We noticed," said Hermione lightly, reaching for a treacle tart. "You barely eat anymore and Ron says that you're up at all hours, walking about the castle."

Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, well, that's old news, isn't it?"

Hermione shot a glance at Ron.

"You know, Harry, Sirius wouldn't want-"

"This isn't about Sirius!" said Harry angrily, standing up and startling the occupants of several nearby seats.

"Harry, sit down," pleaded Hermione, tears glistening in her eyes.

"No, I don't think I will, thanks," said Harry, swinging his legs over the bench. "I'll see you at the DA meeting tonight."

Striding off, Harry fought to keep his mind on what he would be teaching the DA members at the first meeting of the year. He vaguely wondered how many people there would be, but doubted there would be many more than last year.

But he was wrong.

Twenty minutes after Harry had finished setting up the Room of Requirement, the old DA members started arriving, Ron and Hermione at the front. However, the long line didn't stop there. Peeking timidly into the room, students of all houses and ages began filing in and gathering in front of Harry. He watched worriedly as the room slowly began to fill, but Hermione and Ron seemed more optimistic.

"This is excellent, Harry!" enthused Hermione, beaming around in delight.

"Yeah, mate. Looks like you're pretty popular this year. But- ew- look, there's Slytherins here."

Hermione shot Ron a filthy look.

"Oh, Ron, do grow up. Don't you understand? This is the perfect opportunity to promote inter-house unity!"

"But Slytherins! In the DA!"

"No, I think Hermione's right," said Harry quietly, causing Ron to halt his tirade. "We need as many people as we can."

After a minute or so the amount of people entering the room began to dwindle, and Harry spoke up.

"Okay, I want any old DA members over this side of the room, and any new members over here."

Harry waited as the students excitedly went to their positions, more than half of them new members. He turned to Ron and Hermione.

"You two go over to the old DA members. Practice Patronuses and shield charms until I come back, okay?"

"Okay, Harry," said Hermione breathlessly, and grabbing Ron by the hand, dashed off. Harry smiled and turned back to the new students.

However, they seemed more interested in the displays put on by the old members and Harry silently wished that they couldn't see them. Of course, the room provided, as a few of the new members looked away with disgruntled sighs, and Harry looked over his shoulder to see a curtain hanging from the ceiling.

"You'll learn to do that soon enough," Harry promised," but first I need to give these to you." He began handing out the fake galleons. "These _are_ fake, so there's no point trying to steal them. They have a Protean charm on them that will change the serial number on the side. This will tell you the time and date of the next meeting."

Harry was pleased to see Katherine there and wondered if it was she who had convinced some of the Slytherins to come. He flashed her a quick smile before speaking up.

"Allright, I need everyone to split up into groups- from first year to seventh year."

There was a scramble to do so and Harry felt pleased that they were all listening to him.

"Okay, first things first. Disarming. I know this might be old for some of you and if it is, help the ones who don't know how to do it. The charm is _expelliarmus_," and he demonstrated the wand movement, sending a second-year's wand flying.

"All right, pair up and we'll practice this before moving on to shielding."

As soon as everyone was started, Harry began walking through the pairs, helping where necessary. Most seemed determined to succeed and few of the Slytherins made rude comments as he passed. Suddenly, as he passed a student, Harry felt a twinge in his scar. He turned back to the student, an ominous feeling coming over him. It was one of the students from a foreign school and Harry was sure he hadn't met him before. But there was something about him. He _felt _familiar. He was a sixth year, judging from the group he was in and seemed to have caught on pretty quickly. Harry observed him and his partner for a few moments before moving on.

He passed Katherine and stopped to talk to her.

"I didn't think you'd be here," he said.

"Why not?" she asked, as blunt as ever. Harry grinned slightly, but not out of amusement.

"Slytherins don't like me," he said simply.

"I do," she said simply.

Harry nodded at her wand.

"You've got it, but the more power you put behind it, the more effective it will be. If you cast a week spell the most that might happen is that the person might fumble with their wand. It's harder to concentrate in a proper duel, so you should always make your spells as powerful as possible."

Harry continued around the class. When it seemed everyone had gotten it, he called a stop and gave them their next instructions.

"This next spell is much harder, but no less important," said Harry. "It generates a shield that deflects most common curses. It will not block bigger, more dangerous curses, however. The strength of your shield depends on the amount of power you put into it, and the length of time it holds depends on your ability to reinforce it and the types of spells that are getting thrown at it. You can also join with someone, which makes the shield twice as strong. The incantation is _protego_. Begin."

Harry looked at his watch and saw that their time was almost half up, and decided to go and check on the other group.

He walked up behind Ron and Hermione, who were also practicing, and spoke to them.

"Can you guys go and watch over the other group for a few minutes? I've got some new stuff for these guys."

Hermione gave a nod, though she looked slightly put out.

"Don't worry, Hermione. I'll show you two later," Harry grinned.

Hermione brightened and she and Ron disappeared behind the curtain.

"Okay," Harry bellowed, over the laughter of the students. "Everyone come closer."

It seemed that everyone could now produce a Patronus, though some were still slightly shaky and flickered if they lost concentration.

"I want you all to practice your Patronus in your spare time, but for now I have some new stuff for you."

A few cheers came from the group and Harry smiled.

"You might have heard about Inferi," he said.

"The walking dead," whispered Parvati.

"Yes," said Harry. "Voldemort used them in the last war and he may well use them again. The charm to destroy them is simple and the more powerful lit is the more you can destroy at once. The incantation is _exnecro. _Everyone stand in a line for this one, please."

Fifteen minutes later, Harry watched, pleased, as every student could successfully complete the charm, and he called them to a halt.

"This next charm is a shielding charm, though of a different type. You should know that Voldemort is a Parselmouth, therefore he has the ability to use spells in this tongue. You however, will not be able to understand these spell, nor defend against them. An ordinary shield charm will not stop them and there is only one shield that will. It is called the _Illangguo_ shield, and the incantation is the same as its name. This shield requires utmost concentration and is very difficult. As I am the only one here capable of speaking Parseltongue, you will all duel against me, one at a time, and attempt the shield."

Some of the students looked slightly unnerved at this, though a few shuffled forward somewhat.

"How about we practice the incantation and wand movement first?" he said, and a few people sighed with relief. They spent ten minutes, with no visible signs of success, before Harry decided they needed to do a practical.

"Okay, everyone in a line, please," he ordered, and Dean hesitantly found himself first. Harry grinned maliciously.

"Dean, you look scared," he taunted. Dean laughed.

"No way, mate. Bring it on!"

Harry raised his wand. The students flinched when he uttered the words of the spell, his voice coming out as a threatening hiss. Dean yelled the words of the spell, a determined expression on his face, but a second later he collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Harry levitated him out of the way and beckoned the next person forward.

"Dean wiggled his wand. You need to keep it pointing straight," he said. The line quickly dwindled and the pile of unconscious students grew larger with nobody having any success against the charm. As the last person fell to the ground, Harry revived them and they set about waking the rest of the students.

"We'll practice this each meeting until you get it," Harry said, "but until next week I just want you to practice the Inferi charm and work on improving your Patronus and shields."

Harry dismissed the old DA members and returned to check on the new members. To his delight, many of them were successfully shielding their opponent's attacks, and he called them to a stop.

"I want you all to practice what you've learnt today for the next lesson so we can move on to the Patronus charm, which is used for repelling Dementors. I've decided to have an extra meeting each week to catch you up so we can all work as one group, so meet here at the same time on Wednesday."

Harry stayed behind with Ron and Hermione to clean up the room and catch them up on what they had missed.

"Hey, guys, do either of you know the name of that new guy in Slytherin?" Harry asked.

"Which one?" asked Ron.

"The one who was here tonight n the new group, with the black hair."

"His name's Caydon Augustus," replied Hermione. "He's in our DADA and Potions class."

"Why, Harry? Have you met him before?"

"I don't _think_ so," replied Harry, frowning. "He just feels familiar."

"Feels familiar?" asked Hermione, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I've met him before, but I know I haven't."

When Harry went to bed that night his thoughts were full of Dumbledore, Sirius, his parents and Caydon Augustus. When he finally fell asleep he tossed and turned, dreaming of a green-eyed girl he had never seen before but felt he should recognise. He awoke hours later, scar prickling and determined to see Dumbledore.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: hope you enjoyed it! Please review! More to come soon!**

**Chapter 11: Of Fools and Fickle Fate**


	11. Of Fools and Fickle Fate

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 11**

**Of Fools and Fickle Fate**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

When Harry knocked on his Headmaster's door that morning, he interrupted a meeting between Dumbledore and his favourite Potions master. With nothing more than a sneer from Snape as he opened the door, Dumbledore invited Harry to take a seat- they had matters to discuss.

"Are you dying, sir?" asked Harry bluntly.

"Where did you hear that, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gravely, surveying Harry over the top of his glasses.

Harry shrugged in reply, eliciting a snort from Snape.

"Is it true?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"We all die, Harry," he said.

"I know," Harry said angrily. "But that is not what I am asking. Were you hurt at the Department of mysteries, when you were fighting Voldemort?"

"My reflexes are not what they once were," Dumbledore said by way of reply. Harry was getting irritated at the lack of cooperation from his headmaster.

"Fine. That isn't what I came here to ask anyway."

"And what did you come here for, Harry?"

"I want to know what's going on," Harry said.

"You are not old enough to be a member of the Order, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"Does it matter? How am I supposed to kill him if I don't know anything about him?"

"A good question," said Dumbledore. He stood up and walked over to his cupboard, retrieving the Pensieve that Harry had seen many times now.

"You are going to show him now?" asked Snape, and Harry wondered what they were talking about.

"Do you think it unwise?" queried Dumbledore, though he did not falter in his movements.

"No. No, I do not. In fact, I think now would be a very good time to tell him."

"Tell me what?" asked Harry crossly.

Dumbledore remained silent as he sat again at his desk and began prodding the contents of the bowl with his wand.

"Very recently, Harry, I became aware of a prophecy. While the prophecy is not about you, it does concern you, which is why I tell you about it now."

"Who made it, Professor?"

"You shall see in a moment, Harry. Now if you will…"

Harry leaned forward just as the shadowy image of Professor Trelawney rose out of the silver mist and listened eagerly.

"_In twelve days hence, on the eve of the new month, he will be born…As the seventh month dies…the world will welcome a new power…"_

Harry frowned as she halted, her words interrupted by another, softer sound that issued from her mouth, as though she were breathing out of her mouth. He looked up at Dumbledore to ask if he knew what Professor Trelawney was saying, but he raised a silent hand and Harry had his answer.

_He doesn't know that she's speaking Parseltongue_, he thought in shock.

"_Thrice marked, thrice linked…thrice bound. He will be born…to renew the power of the fallen one…return him to his rightful strength…"_

Her voice faded away, but Harry stared at her, sure that there was more.

"_He will return…the Dark Lord…to his power…"_

She paused once more as she lapsed into Parseltongue again.

"_The Dark Lord will be returned to the height of his power. The One…will be strengthened…by blood of the same…"_

Harry stared as she uttered her last words.

"_Twelve nights hence…he will be born…and he will be of V'Ardian…"_

When Harry spoke, his voice was hoarse.

"Who…who is it?" he asked, though he knew who it was.

Dumbledore sighed.

"As to that, Harry, I have no clue. Professor Snape is doing all he can with research, but so far that has led us nowhere. However, that does not matter for now. The point is that this is going to happen and you need to be extremely careful. You may not know, but V'Ardian, the name that was mentioned, is the name of the strongest vampiric clan ever to exist. Vampires are an extremely ancient and proud race who pride pure blood even more so that wizards. They are extremely temperamental and when magical, they can be extremely powerful. The person whom this prophecy refers to is magical and will therefore be a Lord. I urge you to be on your guard. You must continue to carry your Cloak with you wherever you go."

Harry nodded dumbly, but Dumbledore was not finished.

"I do not know if you will be in danger, but it seems likely. Vampires, as powerful as they are, are Dark creatures. While they have the power to heal the sick or prolong life, they will usually choose to use their power to inflict pain and death. Until we find out who this person is, you need to be at your most cautious because it could be anyone."

Harry only nodded in reply, still staring at the silvery mist in the Pensieve. His head felt like it was going to burst from all the thoughts racing around in it, on top of the fact that Dumbledore had successfully evaded his questions.

"So you think this person might try and kill me?" Harry asked.

"It is conceivable, yes. The prophecy states that he _will_ return Voldemort to power, though it does not explain how."

**oOoOo**

Harry didn't return to the dormitory. He skipped his History of Magic class and met up with Ron and Hermione in DADA, where he avoided their persistent questions about where he had been and as a result was the first to successfully manage a non-verbal spell.

"Wands are a means of focussing your latent powers, as are words. Performing non-verbal spells is the first step along the path to performing wandless magic, though few are powerful enough to advance that far."

Malfoy looked for all the world like he believed he alone would triumph in that area and Harry scowled, remembering his proposition.

When Harry again managed a simple non-verbal charm, Snape sneeringly implied that it was luck and they moved on to shield charms, which were much harder than the simple charm that Harry had managed. Harry paired up with Ron and they attempted to block each other's disarming spells silently, though without much luck. Harry grudgingly admitted that Snape might have been right.

As Snape insulted Ron's efforts, Harry stared off into space, thinking about the revelations of that morning. Suddenly however, he was jerked out of his daydream as Snape yelled a stunning spell, wand raised in Harry's direction.

In a split second, Harry turned to Snape, understanding that Snape had been trying to catch him off-guard. He realised he wouldn't have enough time to raise his wand and thought he would either have to jump out of the way or take the spell, but neither seemed particularly dignified, especially in front of the Slytherins. And then he remembered that he had performed non-verbal spells before, in moments of extreme desperation, and knew he could do it again.

In his mind he screamed out a shield charm, and not a moment too late. It was so powerful that Snape was blasted of his feet and flew backwards into a table, where he slumped, unconscious. Harry felt a stab of satisfaction and triumph, before noting the stares from the Gryffindors and the glares from the Slytherins. Seeing that no one else was moving, Harry brandished his wand.

"Enervate," he muttered, and Snape's eyes fluttered open.

Snape glanced about the classroom at the faces staring down at him, and at the wand that was still pointed at him, before realising that he was on the floor. Needless to say, he was furious.

**oOoOo**

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the common room finishing their homework, but Harry didn't feel like working. He laid down his quill and leaned back into the cushions, wishing he could sleep. He wasn't tired, but his body felt weary, like he had no energy left. He imagined that this was what an insomniac must feel like. He glanced at Hermione's work, which Ron was trying to copy and noticed a familiar name at the top of it. His name. He sat up straighter.

"Hermione?"

"Mm?"

"What's that?" he asked, his voice tight.

Hermione covertly moved her arm over, blocking Harry's view, but he had seen it.

"Hermione, what are you writing?"

She looked nervous, and Ron had dropped his quill to stare at Harry.

"Erm, Harry, you won't be mad, will you? I mean, we don't want to do it."

"What is it?"

"It's our History of Magic essay. You have to do it too…"

She stopped as Harry glared at her.

"Dumbledore told me I have to attend classes but that doesn't mean I have to participate in this rubbish," he said, standing up.

Hermione looked like she was about to cry and for once Ron stood up for her.

"Listen, Harry, you don't have to bite our heads off because we're doing our homework. We don't like it anymore than you do but-"

"You don't even understand what it's like, Ron. Neither of you do."

Ignoring the beseeching look on Hermione's face and an angry Ron, Harry left the common room. He found himself heading for the Room of Requirement, desperate for some peace and quiet. A headache was threatening at the corner of his temples and dizziness invaded his brain, allowing no room for the mixed up thoughts and emotions that had been taunting him all day. He flung open the door and found a comfortable looking bed waiting, just in time for him to pass out on it.

But even in dreams, Harry found no respite from his troubles. He thought it impossible that he could be the one whom the prophecy talked about, but the facts held within it were too close to the truth to put Harry at ease, and the fact that Professor Trelawney spoke in Parseltongue…well, that spoke for itself.

And then there was the fact that he was a vampire, or at least partly one, he wasn't quite sure. He knew he needed blood but he couldn't feed off another person. The idea repulsed him and he wouldn't make someone else go through what he was going through.

But he was getting desperate.

He was getting sick, his schoolwork was suffering, and if Voldemort came now he wouldn't have a chance. And how was he supposed to restore Voldemort to the height of his power? Maybe he had already done it, when he gave him his blood, but if that were the case wouldn't the prophecy have been made before?

As Harry slept, he dreamed again of the green-eyed girl and sought to find a clue as to who she was. With the images came an emotion that was almost too difficult to place and whenever Harry thought that he remembered something it would be snatched away in a whirl of blackness, leaving nothing but blank thoughts in his head. He felt as though he were losing something huge.

This thought led him to Dumbledore. If he died, the wizarding world would be losing something huge. Before his dreams turned to other things, Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said about vampires having healing abilities and vaguely wondered if that meant anything.

**oOoOo**

Christmas was quickly drawing closer and the castle was filled with a sense of silent expectation and excitement. For some the excitement came because of holidays, but for the sixth years it was for the long-awaited visit of parents. It was for this reason that Harry was the only student not happy about the upcoming holiday season. The only bright spot on the horizon was the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, which Harry was sure they would win. He had been pushing the team through three training sessions a weak and it was paying off.

DA meetings were also a bright spot in Harry's days and he felt like he achieved something through them. On the days when he did not have Quidditch he organised DA meetings, on top of an extra one on Saturdays for the newer students, who were quickly progressing. Harry was confident that they would soon be able to join the old DA members, for which he was glad.

When Harry woke that morning he automatically cast a glamour over himself before pulling open the curtains. He doubted he had remembered to take it off before he went to sleep but sometimes they faded. He wasn't even sure how he looked anymore because he never bothered to look in the mirror.

His worst days involved lessons with Snape, which excluded only Sundays. The man was almost unbearable and Harry wasn't sure he would have the patience to put up with him any longer. With a sigh, Harry followed Ron and Hermione into the dungeons and began setting up his Potions equipment. As usual, Snape strode into the classroom, wrote the lesson plan on the board and snapped 'begin' at them.

They were making a glamour potion and Harry was grateful that it was a relatively easy one. He could feel Snape's presence behind him as he began cutting up scarab beetles and felt his body go tense. Eventually Snape let out a dissatisfied but disdainful snort, obviously unable to find any fault with Harry's actions. Harry did not doubt that he would be back- he seemed unable to forgive Harry for besting him in their DADA lesson. As Snape breezed through the classroom, he eventually began telling them the properties of the glamour potion, as was his usual behaviour.

"The glamour potion, when drunk, allows the taker to see through a glamour charm. The drinker will be unable to tell who is wearing a glamour charm; they will simply be able to see them as they really are. The active ingredients are the powdered hemp root, which causes hallucinations in muggles. When mixed with the molten Nutt, it produces a kind of truth spell, which shows only hallucinations that are real, so to speak. This in turn is cancelled out by the Grey Back Leaf, allowing the drinker to see a person under glamour as they really are."

Harry slowly but steadily completed his potion, though his eyes were itching with tiredness. When he finished he was pleased to see that it was the same thin red as Hermione's, though it was emitting a slight steam. When everyone was finished, Snape ordered them to fill a flask and bring it to him.

"I will be testing each one today to ensure that they work," he said, and Harry felt his heart beat faster. Before anyone else could go up the front, he made his way through the tables and stopped in front of Snape.

"Uh, sir, I'm not feeling well. I think I need to go and see Madam Pomfrey."

Snape did not look up.

"Bring me your potion, Potter, and then you may go."

"But sir-"

"Bring me your Potion, Potter," Snape said, his voice holding a tone of finality.

Slowly Harry filled a flask and stood in line behind Theodore Nott, waiting for the line to slow. Snape was at the front, turning student's hair pink and drinking their Potions. And then it was Harry's turn. Snape pulled the cap off of the flask with a pop and smirked at the pale red vapour that wafted out. He waved his wand vaguely at Harry and he felt a crawling sensation on his head. A few sniggers told him the job had been done.

He waited anxiously as Snape downed the red substance and looked at him. Harry's eyes flicked away as he saw Snape's face pale ever so slightly and he stared anywhere but at Snape. Slowly Snape handed Harry back his flask, his eyes still travelling over Harry's face.

"You will stay behind," he murmured softly.

"What mark did I get?" Harry asked.

"Acceptable. Your potion was not fully correct. It only worked partially."

Harry returned to his seat and sat down, putting away his equipment. If his potion hadn't worked properly, then how much had Snape seen?

Harry took a deep breath and waited as Snape finished testing the last few potions. When Snape dismissed the class and the last person had left, Snape spoke to him.

"Follow me," he said, and began heading for the door at the front of the room. Harry grabbed his bag and followed him, a feeling of dread in his stomach. Harry followed Snape into his office and heard the door squeak closed behind him. The scene almost reminded him of a muggle horror movie.

Snape spun around and raised his wand, muttering '_finite incantatem'_.

Harry felt his glamour torn away and Snape was, for once, not sneering at him.

"Merlin, Potter, what have you done to yourself?"

_Great_, thought Harry. _I must look terrible if Snape's concerned._

"Nothing."

At this point in time, Snape did sneer and with another wave of his wand, he conjured up a mirror. Harry stared at his reflection, slightly shocked himself. His face was gaunt, his cheeks slightly sunken and hollow. His skin was as pale as he had ever seen it and he appeared to have lost weight. He had the sudden thought that this _was _a horror movie, but he was the monster, not Snape. He looked exactly as Dracula might have, right down to the prominent scar on his forehead. The mirror disappeared and Snape looked at him expectantly.

"I just haven't been sleeping very well, all right!" Harry defended, almost ashamed to be seen like this by Snape.

"Or eating, from the look of things," replied Snape.

"Well I haven't been feeling well."

Snape turned and opened a cupboard, retrieving a potion from the shelf. He shoved it at Harry, with an order to drink. Hesitantly Harry pulled the cap off and downed the thick, glutinous substance in one swallow, retching slightly at the taste. Snape forced a second, smaller one into his hands and Harry tipped it back. To his surprise, it was sweet and tasted quite nice.

"What was that?" he asked, as he began to feel as if he were floating along.

"A truth serum," said Snape, smirking. Harry's eyes widened.

"Oh, no. No, no, no."

Harry spun around and took a step towards the door, but he felt suddenly weak and stumbled, falling to his knees. He fumbled for his wand, but Snape grabbed his wand and put it on the desk, forcing Harry into a chair.

The exertion made Harry breathe heavily, but he couldn't move. His limbs simply refused to respond to the commands his brain was giving them. Harry felt an enormous sense of injustice welling up inside him and he began to get angry. He remembered what Dumbledore had told him about vampires being temperamental and wished they weren't. He needed to stay calm.

Snape conjured a second chair and sat in front of Harry, staring at him intently.

"Why haven't you been sleeping, Potter?"

Harry found his mouth working without him wanting to.

_Please_, he prayed, _don't let me tell him anything_.

"Because I haven't been tired," he murmured.

"Then why do you look so sick?"

_Oh no_.

"Because I'm not getting what I need."

Harry gave an internal sigh of relief.

"And what do you need?" asked Snape softly.

"Release."

The answer Harry gave surprised even himself. He wasn't quite sure what it meant and judging from the look on Snape's face, neither did he.

"Release from what, Potter?"

"From my fate."

"Your fate is to kill the Dark Lord?"

"Yes."

"Why do you need release from that?"

"Not from that."

"Is there something else?"

"A prophecy."

_No! He was giving away too much. Please, let it wear off, _he begged.

"The prophecy says you must kill the Dark Lord. You said there was something else."

"Yes. Another prophecy."

He saw Snape draw in a deep breath, considering Harry.

"What is this prophecy?"

Harry tried to refrain from answering for as long as possible. He twitched his finger; he was regaining feeling, regaining control.

"It is about…"

Harry gasped as a shiver rolled down his spine.

"It is…"

The truth serum was wearing off.

"Yes?" Snape snapped, aware of the potions declining effects.

Harry shook his head.

"I can't say," he said. Snape swore.

"It seems I have to replenish my stocks. The potion seems to have lost some of its potency. It should have lasted far longer than that."

_Thank goodness for that,_ Harry thought, as the feeling of floating left his mind.

"How dare you!" he yelled, standing up and swaying slightly. "You had no right to do that!"

Snape sneered.

"Do not speak to me that way, Potter. I have the authority to do whatever is necessary to help a student and you clearly need help."

"That wasn't helping me you slimy git! You were just waiting for the chance to get information out of me! Are you going to go and tell your master now?" Harry hissed.

Snape paled.

"Insolence!" he hissed. "Detention, Potter."

"No, I don't think so," replied Harry. "Truth potions are illegal. Maybe it's time you paid a visit to somewhere you don't want to go."

Snape paled visibly, though the sneer remained firmly in place.

"You would never do that, Potter. You're too noble to send the one spy the Order has to jail."

"You're not the only spy," Harry snarled, snatching his wand off of the desk.

"Oh, believe me, Potter, I am. There is no other who is as close to the Dark Lord as I who is willing to risk being a spy."

"Not for Dumbledore," Harry spat, thinking vaguely of Malfoy. Snape seemed to understand that he was speaking the truth and contemplated his next words.

"You know of another?" he asked. But Harry wasn't going to fall for that.

"We are not here to talk about that!" he said, reassuming the glamour. "And I am no longer going to stand here talking to you. I don't care if you are a teacher, I don't care if you're the only spy Dumbledore has. You had no right to do that and I do not trust you!"

"You have a lot to learn, Potter, about how things work in the real world. It doesn't alter anything one bit whether you trust me or not." Snape hissed, his voice deadly quiet. "When this war is over, I will have been on the right side and that is what matters."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and thanks to all my reviewers. Please keep reading- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 12: Of Parents and Proof**


	12. Of Parents and Proof

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 12**

**Of Parents and Proof**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Harry wasn't quite sure what to think of Snape's words. In one way it sounded as though Snape only cared about himself, and he retained his status as a spy only because he would be favoured no matter which way the war went. On the other hand it sounded as though maybe, just maybe, he had faith in Harry. Faith that he would defeat Voldemort.

But Harry was still seething at Snape's actions. How dare he try and force information out of Harry. He was still thanking whatever powers that were that Snape hadn't managed to extract anything of value.

The potion Snape had given Harry had made him feel a little better, though he still felt worn out. Now, as he trudged up to the room of requirement, he wished that everything could just be normal again. He wanted to feel healthy. He wanted to only have to kill Voldemort. He wanted his scar to be gone. He wanted to stop dreaming about the strange girl with the green eyes.

When Harry got to the Room of Requirement, he was distinctly disgruntled to see Draco Malfoy leaning up against the door. Malfoy didn't say anything, simply walked up to Harry and pressed a slip of parchment into his hand. Meeting his eyes steadily, Malfoy stepped past him and disappeared down the hall. With a sense of anticipation, Harry slipped into the Room of Requirement and unfolded the parchment.

_Attack planned for Sunday night. Location unknown. _

Harry snorted in disbelief. Malfoy had to be kidding. If this was the 'proof' that he had promised then Harry wasn't too sure about this deal. There were attacks almost weekly now and there was no certainty that Malfoy hadn't just guessed. Well, it wasn't Harry's problem. If Malfoy wanted the deal badly enough then he would have to do better than that.

Harry began preparing the room, and it was not long before Ron and Hermione arrived to help. He looked up, about to greet them, when he realised it wasn't them at all. It was the boy, Caydon Augustus, whom Harry had noticed weeks before. He had noticed him in classes too, since he had first seen him at the DA meeting weeks ago.

He walked with a calm, confident air, though he was quiet in class. He was good looking, thought Harry, with dark hair and pale skin. He strolled up to Harry and again he felt a shiver roll up his spine at the sense of familiarity.

"You're a bit early," he said. The boy shrugged.

"I wanted to ask you about that charm we learnt last week, the Parseltongue one."

Harry stopped what he was doing and turned to face him.

"Yes?"

"Well, not about the actual charm. I actually wanted to ask about you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Usually people whispered rumours or asked their friends. They didn't come and ask him the truth. Maybe that it was for this reason that Harry was a little free with information for this boy who felt so uncomfortable to be around.

"I wanted to know how you speak Parseltongue."

Harry shrugged.

"I've always been able to do it," he said. "I don't think it's something you can learn."

"Oh," said Caydon. He sounded slightly put out. "Well it's just that I find it all very interesting, you see."

"All what?" asked Harry cautiously.

"Well, if truth be told, I'm quite interested in the Dark Arts. Not to use them, of course, but they're quite fascinating."

Harry was suddenly strongly reminded of Snape and Harry wondered if he could have been wrong about Katherine. Maybe this boy knew Snape. But the idea was impossible. He couldn't make assumptions based solely on someone's interests.

"My name's Caydon Augustus, by the way. I'm in a few of your classes."

"Yes, I've noticed," said Harry. "Well, if you like you could help me set up. The others will be arriving soon. I'm joining the two classes up from now on, so it's easier for me to work with you."

"Oh, good. Does that mean we'll be able to go a bit faster now?"

"Maybe," said Harry. "We're getting into some pretty complicated stuff right now."

"What will we be doing today?" Caydon asked. He seemed to have a thirst for knowledge, Harry thought.

"Well, since it's the first lesson since the classes have been joined, I thought we'd have a duelling competition and go over some of the more basic stuff. Just so everyone can get to know each other a bit."

Caydon nodded his approval.

"A break would be good," he said.

**oOoOo**

After the lesson, Harry left Ron and Hermione to clean the room so he wouldn't be late for his Occlumency lesson with Snape. The lessons bothered him; there was always the fear that Snape would discover something important, and he disliked the fact that it was Snape breaking into his mind. Perhaps it was just his fear and desperation that allowed him to successfully repel Snape, though he wasn't really improving. If truth be told he was finding it increasingly hard to keep his concentration lately and this worried him. He had been thinking about _it_ a lot today.

Just as he turned the corridor, he saw Katherine, walking just ahead of him.

"Katherine!" he called out, and she turned around, he face a calm mask.

"Hello, Harry," she said.

"Are you going back to the Slytherin dorms now?" he asked.

"No, actually, I was going to see Professor Snape about something."

"Well, you could walk with me. I have to go and see him as well. Detention," he gave half a grin.

"Bad luck," said Katherine, a small smile gracing her features.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Harry asked her something.

"So is your dad coming to visit?" he asked.

"No, he can't make it," replied Katherine.

"I suppose you'll be able to see him at Christmas, then," said Harry.

"Actually, I'm staying here for Christmas," Katherine said. "I won't be able to see him."

"Oh, well, that's a shame. You always seem to talk so highly of him. Do you get along well?"

A small smile covered her face as she glanced somewhat shyly at Harry, as though she were not used to showing emotion which, Harry thought, she probably wasn't.

"Yes. He's all I have left, really, so I can't afford not to. I do miss not being able to see him as much as I could."

"Well, better less than never," Harry said morosely.

Katherine looked at him, her face stony.

"I wasn't old enough to remember my mother before she was murdered. Do you remember your parents?"

It was the first time she had spoken openly to Harry about her parents, much less about his, and he was surprised. His face grew sombre.

"I remember them in dreams. And when I'm near the Dementors."

The two of them carried on, past the statue of the one-eyed which, and Harry thought about how their conversations always seemed to end up badly.

"What was your mother's name?" he asked.

"Evelyn Prewett. My father says I have her smile."

Harry stopped in his tracks.

"Prewett?"

Katherine stopped and looked at him.

"Yes. Why?"

Harry shook his head and started walking again.

"Was she related to Molly Prewett? And Gideon and Fabian?" Harry asked, remembering a distant memory.

Katherine looked at him curiously.

"I'm not sure. My father doesn't talk about her very often, so I don't know much about her family. I know my grandparents are dead, so I don't have any contact with any of my mother's family."

Harry nodded, intrigued at this new development. The time for talking was over however, as they approached Snape's office.

Harry knocked on the door and they both entered at Snape's command.

"Potter," he said, glancing up, not noticing Katherine. "Take a seat, clear your mind."

"Uh, sir," Harry said nervously. He didn't think it wise to let anyone know that Snape was teaching him Occlumency and frankly, he had thought that Snape was more careful than that. However, he looked quite involved with the letter he was composing in front of him and didn't look up. "There's someone else to see you first," he said as Katherine stopped beside him.

Snape's head snapped up and his eyes found Katherine.

"Ah, Ms Winters. I have Mr Potter scheduled for remedial potions at this time. Would you return later, please," he said, unusually polite. Katherine frowned and turned to Harry.

"I thought you said you had a detention," she accused. She clearly knew that something was up. She looked at Snape, her eyes fiery. "I will come back later," she said, and sped from the room.

Snape watched her go, a strange look on his face. He blinked and looked at Harry.

"Well, Potter? I believe I told you to take a seat," he sneered, back to his usual self. Harry moved to take a seat, but Snape had already raised his wand.

"_Legilimens_," he murmured, catching Harry unawares.

Images and flashes of memory assaulted Harry's mind, coming to rest on the one memory he had been recalling all day. The scene from the park played in his mind, slowing down as Snape watched it with interest. Harry could feel him probing for more information, intrigued at the surprise and fear radiating off of Harry. Harry knew he couldn't let Snape see that memory and so he yelled the first spell that came to his mind. It was a shield that his conversation with Caydon Augustus had reminded him about, the one in Parseltongue.

The effect was instant. Harry felt Snape's presence leave his mind, but he was still seeing memories, blurring his vision. He realised it had happened again, that he had invaded Snape's memories as he had last year. But now he found that he didn't want to stop. He felt Snape's surprise mingling with his own, and Snape's attempts to push him out. But there must have been one memory that was to the fore of his consciousness and it slipped through his defences. Beyond the mundane and everyday thoughts that Snape must have shown to Voldemort was another, far darker memory.

A dark haired woman lay on the ground, clearly dead, screams dying in the background and the sound of a baby crying permeating the thick darkness of the night. The Snape in the memory approached the woman, kneeling down beside her. He heard a whispered name followed by silence, though his shaking hands reached out to cup her face. The sound of a baby crying came again and Snape looked up, the hood of his Death Eater's robes hanging off of his shoulders.

But the vision ended there as Harry was thrown out of the memory and confronted by a pale and snarling Snape.

"Did I not tell you," he uttered slowly, "never to do that again?"

Harry sat still, unsure of what to say.

"It was the first spell that came to my mind," he said.

"Where did you learn that spell, Potter?" asked Snape, avoiding the previous subject of the memory. Maybe he had known it was unavoidable that Harry would pierce his defences at some point, but he seemed keen to talk of other things. Harry however, was wary of the question.

"I found it somewhere," he replied simply.

"That is a Dark Arts spell, Potter," spat Snape. "You would not have found it in any book in the Hogwarts library."

"No. I didn't," stated Harry shortly. "But it is a defensive spell, not a Dark spell."

"I would think, Potter," Snape sneered, "that I would know more about that than you, don't you think?"

Harry didn't answer and Snape dropped the subject.

"I will ask you not to use shield spells again. You will attempt to force me out of your mind with will power, instead of using magic. _Legilimens_."

Harry failed again and again, after that, forced to resort to spells to evade Snape's attempts. After half an hour of practicing, Snape finally accessed a memory that Harry didn't want him to see. But Harry was too tired after this rigorous lesson to block Snape any more, and he waited as Snape watched it freely.

It was over within a minute, but Harry felt the pain of it all over again. He had managed, for the last few weeks at least, to put it from his mind, but Snape had come along and opened it up like a raw wound.

When Snape withdrew on his own, Harry looked down at the floor, not meeting his eye.

"You may go," he said, and Harry fled. He didn't care what Snape thought. For all he cared Snape could sit there and laugh at him if he wanted. It wasn't the fact that it was Snape that knew, specifically, it was that he hadn't wanted anyone to know. He hadn't even told Ron and Hermione that he was never going back to Privet Drive, but now Snape knew, and Harry knew that Snape would use it against him.

Harry hurried back to Gryffindor tower not watching where he was going, and as a result he crashed into someone waiting just out of site of the portrait hole.

Harry mumbled a 'sorry' and pushed past them, intent on getting to his dorm, but the person spoke to him.

"Harry."

Harry stopped and turned to face her, knowing what was coming.

"Katherine. What do you want?"

"I want to know why my- why Snape is teaching you Occlumency," she said, and Harry knew she wouldn't be dissuaded. Then again, he didn't really see why she couldn't know. It surprised him slightly that she had comprehended Snape's words for what they were, however.

"He isn't," said Harry.

Katherine's face hardened.

"I know what I saw, Harry."

Harry sighed. He couldn't risk her knowing. He had no proof that his theory was correct but maybe it was time to take a chance. And then he remembered something, something that he should have realized the moment he heard it. He recalled Snape's memory, striving to remember the details that he hadn't really been paying attention to. It was the name that did it; the one that the Snape has whispered ever so quietly, so quietly that Harry had barely heard it.

"You know," he began, "when I look at you, I don't see what everyone else sees."

Katherine laughed out loud, but it had no humour in it. When she stopped she looked at Harry and her gaze held no mirth.

"If that is some cheesy pick-up line, Potter, then you can forget it, because I am not in the mood."

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Harry would have laughed as well, but he remained serious.

"No," he said, "what I'm saying is, when I look at you, I see a Snape."

Harry saw a split second of hesitation on her face before she denied what he'd said, looking at him as though he were being extremely rude.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she spat, but Harry felt her insecurity.

"I guess I was wrong about you," said Harry, his voice tight. "I won't mention it again." He turned to go, but felt her hand on his arm. He looked down at it and she withdrew it quickly.

"How…how do you know?" she asked, her voice hushed. "No one's supposed to know."

Harry sighed and turned back to her.

"He's your father," he said, and though it was a statement he hoped for her to confirm it. She did.

"Yes. But please, you can't tell anyone!"

As Harry looked at her he realised that this was not the proud, self-assured, calm and slightly snobbish Katherine that he had known before. Now she was vulnerable, maybe even frightened that he would give away her secret.

"I haven't told anyone yet, and I wasn't planning to. I know what could happen."

Katherine visibly sagged with relief. Harry hadn't notice how tense she was.

"How long have you know?" she asked.

"I've been fairly certain for a while now. I've suspected since I first saw you together."

"But- how? You said you don't see what others see when you look at me."

Harry wasn't sure how far he wanted to go with this, but he owed her an explanation.

"I can't see your glamour."

Katherine frowned.

"Why not?"

Harry hesitated.

"I can't tell you. And you can't tell anyone either."

Katherine nodded, seemingly back to normal.

"What about my father?"

"Definitely not him," Harry confirmed.

_Definitely nobody who knows about the prophecy_, he thought.

"So why is he teaching you Occlumency?" she asked.

"So that Voldemort can't see inside my head," Harry said.

Katherine nodded, not alarmed by his abrupt answer.

"He taught me as well, when I was younger. I've never had to use it."

"I can't really seem to get the hang of it, though. I still see things."

"Is it bad?" she asked, curious.

Harry didn't feel like going into it. The dreams had gotten worse since he had been bitten. His mind was weaker and he seemed more in tune with the Dark side of Voldemort.

"Sometimes it isn't so bad. Sometimes it's just meetings, and he talks to his Death Eaters. I can only see stuff when he's really emotional, like when he goes on an attack," Harry murmured, leaning back against the wall. "I see him murder people sometimes; children, babies, whole families. And the Death Eaters, they're no better. They abuse the women and torture children. They do it for fun and it makes me sick." Harry shook his head, remembering some of the dreams he had had.

They stood in silence for a moment before Katherine voiced what he had been thinking earlier.

"Our conversations never turn out happily, do they?"

Harry gave a cynical laugh.

"Well, that's what you get when two people with bad histories and lots of secrets talk," he joked.

Katherine laughed, throwing her head back and in that instant, Harry found himself suddenly unavoidably and desirably attracted to her.

Before he knew what he was doing, he had pressed his lips to hers, silencing her laugh and causing her eyes to drift shut. He pushed her gently backwards against the wall and out of sight, her body pressed to his. His hands found her waist and he deepened the kiss, hungry for more. But he found himself too hungry. There was a foreign feeling coursing through his veins, one that he identified as lust, and he couldn't control it.

His lips left her mouth, travelling over her cheek and past her ear. Her hands that had been around his neck went to his chest, pushing him away slightly, but he pushed forward against her.

"Harry…" she murmured, as his lips found a vein pulsing in her neck, pleasingly warm. "Harry!"

What happened next was possibly the only thing that stopped him from going further. He felt a sudden sensation in his mouth and felt something smooth gliding over the inside of his lip. The sensation startled him and he pulled away from her, spinning around with a hand over his mouth.

"Oh, Merlin! Temperamental, temperamental…" he muttered.

"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Katherine, trying to see his face. He shrugged her hand off of his shoulder as he tried to calm down, feeling the elongated teeth under his lip. He felt them slowly recede with slight ache and turned back to face her, and apology on his lips. Instead, she stepped back in surprise, her eyes widening.

"Harry- your eyes…"

"What?" he asked, a stab of fear making his heart race faster.

"Your eyes- they're black."

Harry conjured a small mirror and gazed at his reflection, his eyes big black orbs with no hint of green. As he watched, the blackness slowly faded back to the normal colour and Harry vanished the mirror.

"I'm so sorry, Katherine. Look, I have to go…"

He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm again.

"What happened to you, Harry?" she asked, concern evident on her face. Harry shook his head.

"I can't tell you, Katherine. I think you should just stay away from me for a while," he said.

"Why can't you tell me?" she challenged. "I just told you the biggest secret I have. I think I deserve something in return."

"That's different, I worked it out," said Harry. "No one can know what my secret is, so don't ask me."

Katherine glared at him and Harry laughed.

"What?"

"Your sneer. It's just like his," he said.

"Don't change the subject, Harry," she retorted. Then she added, more quietly. "Besides, you can't just kiss me and tell me it nothing."

Harry turned away.

"I told you I was sorry," he said. The feel of her soft skin on his lips had been intoxicating; the blood pulsing and throbbing temptingly and enticingly beneath them. He doubted he'd be able to stop if it happened again.

So he walked away, leaving her standing in the corridor next to the statue. She didn't call out, and for that Harry was glad. He knew she would have thought it weak and undignified and for a moment he hated that she was like that. He wanted her to come running after him and force the truth out of him, but he knew she would never do that, because that just wasn't her.

He climbed through the portrait hole and swept straight past Ron and Hermione and into his dormitory, where he climbed into bed and angrily thrust the curtains into place. He felt as though he would drown in the frustration that his secret held him in. It was like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter, the force of each burden pushing harder and harder against him. And he was powerless to stop it.

**oOoOo**

"Do you think Harry's all right?" Hermione whispered softly, clinging to Ron's hand.

Ron sighed.

"He barely talks to me anymore, you know. He won't tell me what's bothering him."

"Maybe you should go up and talk to him. You're his best friend, I'm sure he'll listen to you if you try and talk to him."

"You are too, Hermione. He's just going through a rough time at the moment. He'll get through it, like he always does."

Hermione sighed, leaning her head against Ron's shoulder.

"How do you think he'll cope with all the parents coming tomorrow?" she asked.

"I'm not sure, I mean, he's pretty used to it but…"

"I'm sure your mum will stand in for his parents."

"I suppose, but Harry still won't accept it."

"I know," Hermione sighed, "but what else can we do?"

**oOoOo**

Harry laid bed contemplating the note that Malfoy had given him. Sunday night…tomorrow night. The date gave him a sink feeling and as he drifted off to sleep he realized why. The parents were arriving tomorrow.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: I like this chapter and I hope you do too! Please, please, please review! Thankyou so much for reading- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 13: Of Murder and Mayhem**


	13. Of Murder and Mayhem

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 13**

**Of Murder and Mayhem**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Harry stood to the side of the Entrance Hall, watching the students waiting in anticipation for the arrival of their parents. He scanned the crowded room, his gaze resting for a second on Katherine. She looked at him, her gaze unwavering and her chin defiantly out. Harry looked away and his gaze came to rest on Tonks. He had yet to talk to Tonks this term and that surprised him. He would have thought that she would have sought him out, but every time he had seen her she hurried off. He wondered if she was avoiding him because he had killed Sirius, and the thought made him feel guilty.

Suddenly he felt a presence at his side and looked up to see Professor McGonagall.

"Mr Potter, may I ask what you are doing over here? The rest of the students are waiting for their parents over there."

Harry stared at her in disbelief. As if she didn't know, he thought.

"And who am I supposed to be waiting for, Professor?" Harry snapped.

Professor McGonagall looked down at him sternly.

"Don't take that tone with me, Mr Potter. I am sure Mr and Mrs Weasley are both eager to see you."

"I'll be fine right here, Professor," replied Harry.

"Very well," replied Professor McGonagall, and strode off to organise the milling sixth years.

Harry returned his gaze to Tonks and saw that she was still looking slightly ill. He vaguely wondered if Lupin would be coming to visit her, or maybe even to see him. The front doors were opened and Harry looked out at the night sky. Mars burned brightly. In the distance Harry could see the carriages drawn by Thestrals, making their way slowly up to the front doors.

When the parents got here they would be welcomed by Dumbledore, who had yet to make and appearance, and a feast would be held in the Great Hall. Harry decided he wasn't going to wait around to play Happy Families, so he returned to the Gryffindor common room. Seeing no suitable company there, he decided to stay in his dormitory and do some research for the next DA meeting.

The evening passed relatively quickly after that and Harry was looking forward to the Quidditch game tomorrow. He waited though, with slight sense of anticipation, for the attack. For some reason he chose to believe Malfoy- he sensed that he was telling the truth. He wondered what Malfoy would gain from this deal but if Harry was honest with himself he was probably just saving his own skin.

Harry got up and went to the window, observing some of the families that had gathered out on the grounds. Harry sneered. Even Malfoy had his mother there, and Neville was standing uncomfortably with his grandmother. Harry saw Ron and Hermione together and noticed with a start that they were holding hands.

_When did that happen?_

Mr and Mrs Weasley and another couple, whom Harry assumed must be Hermione's parents, stood with them. The sight made Harry think about the only family he had left. He imagined them sitting in the lounge room, eyes glued to the television, TV dinners on their laps. He imagined them watching the seven o'clock news, Uncle Vernon treating his wife and child to a lecture about 'those people' on the television.

But suddenly the scene morphed into something else, something that terrified Harry more than he thought it ever would. A figure stepped out of the shadowy hall behind the lounge, the Dursleys sitting unaware of the intruder. The fugure stepped forward, merging closer and closer to the three oblivious muggles.

"No," Harry whispered. How could this happen? Voldemort didn't know about Privet Drive. There was no way that Harry could be seeing this unless Voldemort was really there.

Harry knew that he shouldn't care, but he did.

"Dursley," hissed the Death Eater and Harry instantly recognise the voice of the one woman he loathed more than any other.

The three Dursley's jumped up, Aunt Petunia emitting a startled shriek. Harry knew he should tell someone, but as he watched he found himself becoming drawn in.

_This is what Occlumency is for_, he thought, as he became more agitated.

The Death Eater spoke again.

"_Petunia Dursley. I wish to know where the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is," she snarled, raising her wand. Uncle Vernon pushed Dudley behind him, while Bellatrix cast a silencing charm on the room. _

"_I- I don't kn-know about any Ord-" her words were cut off as Dudley feel to the floor, emitting a violent scream. Uncle Vernon gave a roar of outrage and Aunt Petunia fell to her knees beside Dudley, sobbing. _

"_Please, we don't know anything! Who are you?" wept Aunt Petunia, looking beseechingly up at the Death Eater. _

"_Do not lie to me," hissed Bellatrix. "Tell me where the boy goes when he is not here."_

"_He goes to Smeltings!" roared Uncle Vernon, his face a terrified red mask. "Now I demand you tell me what the devil is going on here!"_

"_We do not care about your son," said the Bellatrix. _

"_What boy?" cried Aunt Petunia, her hands running feverishly over her son's face. _

"_Your nephew, Harry Potter," she snarled. _

"_We don't know a Harry Potter!" growled Uncle Vernon. _

Harry felt a sense of dread creep upon him as Bellatrix hissed out the words of an Unforgivable.

It was over in a split second. Uncle Vernon crumpled to the floor in a flash of green light. Harry's jaw tightened.

Suddenly the vision left him and he was left staring out at the dark sky, Mars bright on the horizon. It occurred to him that Malfoy had been telling the truth and he berated himself for not taking the note seriously.

Suddenly Harry was overcome with panic. He had never imagined that this would happen, but now that it had, he found himself wishing that it wasn't.

He raised his wand and from his mouth issued an abnormal hissing sound.

He disappeared.

**oOoOo**

Privet Drive was in shadow. For the second time in its relatively short history, it found itself without any streetlights. A curlew called ominously through the darkness and Harry shivered as he got his bearings. A second later he dashed out of the deserted alley way and around the corner, his feet pounding on the pavement.

He burst through the front door and dashed into the lounge room to only to be confronted by the site of his dead relatives. Harry was filled with a kind of animalistic rage and spun around, searching for the filthy Death Eater who had done this.

He heard a crash in the hall and stormed towards it.

"Bellatrix!" he roared, his voice loud and commanding.

He ran down the hall and met her in the dining room. She sneered at him.

"Well, if it isn't baby wee Potter," she spat. "Come to save your family?"

They stood in the room, wands levelled and Bellatrix laughed.

"What are you going to do, Potter? Are you going to kill me?" She gave him a sickly sweet smile. "Do it then," she ordered. But Harry didn't kill her. His anger was clouding his mind, making it impossible to think straight. Before he knew it he had launched himself at her, instinctively wrapping his hands around her neck. She slammed backwards into the wall as he thrust her head backwards. She gave a muffled grunt and he felt her wand pressing into the soft flesh of his stomach.

He was so close…so close. He could do it, if he really wanted to. But that was the problem; the thought of doing what someone had done to him, of drinking another person's blood, disgusted him. His hesitation cost him his chance. With a muttered spell from Bellatrix, Harry found himself flying through the air, landing in a crumpled heap as he hit the table.

"Well, well, Potter's a vampire, who would have thought?" grinned Bellatrix evilly, but Harry saw a hidden fear in her eyes. "The Dark Lord will certainly be interested to hear this."

Her eyes gleamed at the prospect of the honour she would receive upon returning with this news. Harry struggled to his feet, feeling the fangs recede back into his gums as he calmed down.

"Are you afraid of me, Bellatrix?" he asked.

She laughed.

"Afraid of a boy? I think not."

"Crucio!" Harry hissed, and Bellatrix flew backwards, coming to rest slumped against the wall. Panting heavily, she struggled to her feet.

"Is that…the best…you can do, Potter?" she gasped, her voice wavering. Harry realised suddenly that she really was scared of him. "You can't even hurt me!" she yelled triumphantly, though Harry thought she looked distinctly crazy, her eyes glinting madly.

Suddenly she turned and ran, heading for the back door. Breathing heavily, Harry dashed after her. He met her in the kitchen, where Aunt Petunia had yet to cleanup after making dinner. The back door hung slightly open, but before she could pass through it, it shut with a bang and would not open. She turned, panting heavily and Harry saw a flicker of fear pass across her face. Harry felt a sick sort of triumph pass through him. He had her cornered.

But what should he do now? He couldn't kill her; he knew he wouldn't be able to do that, so he had to hold her. He wondered if he could keep her here until someone arrived; surely the Order would have been alerted that there was magical activity at Privet Drive, along with the ministry.

But it seemed that Bellatrix had other ideas. Her gaze darted wildly around the kitchen, her wand hand raised and shaking. They faced off against each other, neither willing to make the next move. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

And then she saw the knife.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: I need more reviews or I will discontinue this story! I originally had plans for this chapter to be much longer, but I decided to leave it there for a bit of a cliffy ;) Remember to review and I'll show you the rest- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 14: Of Retribution and Revenge**


	14. Of Retribution and Revenge

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 14**

**Of Retribution and Revenge**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Harry staggered upon his arrival back at Hogwarts, but stormed off immediately in the direction of the dungeons, his mind set firmly upon one thing. But the person he had been intending to see wasn't the one that he found. Instead, Harry saw Draco Malfoy, walking slowly to the Slytherin common room, a small smirk on his face.

Harry stormed up behind him and grabbed his collar, propelling him into the wall. Malfoy stared at him in surprise, his look of anger turning to one of shock when he saw the tear streaks running down Harry's face.

"You bastard!" shouted Harry. "Are you completely useless? You couldn't even find out where…"

Malfoy realised what Harry was talking about and replied straight away.

"What happened, Potter?"

Harry's face contorted in anger and he shoved Malfoy back into the wall again.

"She killed them! All three of them!"

"Who, Potter? Who killed who?"

"Your precious Aunt," Harry sneered. "But guess what?"

"What?" asked Malfoy, looking slightly uncertain.

"She's dead now as well," Harry hissed triumphantly, venomously.

Malfoy paled at Harry's statement.

"Dead?"

"I killed her, Malfoy. I killed her."

Malfoy's face filled with rage and he drew his wand, but an intervention prevented him from going further.

"Draco? What's going on?"

Harry looked sideways to see Narcissa Malfoy staring in alarm at her son. When she saw Harry's face she frowned.

"Potter," she spat. "Unhand my son right now!"

Harry growled and shoved Malfoy harder into the wall.

"Are you going to tell her?" he hissed quietly. "Are you going to tell her that her evil sister is dead?"

Malfoy was saved from answering however, by the arrival of te man that Harry had originally wanted to talk to.

"Release Mr Malfoy at once, Potter," came the oily voice of Snape from behind him. Harry dropped Malfoy and turned, and Snape too, seemed shocked at Harry's appearance.

"Did you know?" Harry asked, fists clenched at his side.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Potter," Snape sneered. He turned to Narcissa. "I apologise, Narcissa. Potter often feels that rules are beneath him."

"I understand, Severus. I am sure you will take the appropriate measures."

Narcissa put her hand on her son's shoulder, intending to steer him away, but Malfoy resisted her. Instead, he turned to Snape.

"He killed Aunt Bellatrix!" he yelled. Narcissa let out a gasp and Snape's face paled.

"Narcissa, Draco, I must speak with Potter now. I assure you Potter is lying. I will contact you later."

"Answer me, damn it!" yelled Harry, regaining Snape's attention. Snape stepped forward smartly and grasped Hary's shoulder, pushing him into a nearby doorway.

"What have you done?" hissed Snape, leaning threateningly over Harry. But Harry wasn't about to be dissuaded.

"I asked if you knew!" he spat.

"Knew what, Potter?"

"The Dursleys are dead."

Snape's eyes widened and Harry knew then that Snape had had no idea about the attack.

Snape stepped back, silent.

"No," he said quietly, "I did not."

"Mr Malfoy, I shall speak with you later. Please return to your dormitory for now."

"But sir-"

"Leave _now_, Mr Malfoy," Snape said, his voice leaving no room for discussion.

Malfoy left and Harry stood, seething with resentment.

"Did you know?" he spat, but Snape did not answer. Instead, he turned and walked into his office, ignoring Harry's question. Harry stormed after him, slamming the door behind him.

"Did you know?" Harry repeated slowly, gritting his teeth.

"Sit, Potter," said Snape, pointing to a chair. "And to answer your question, you will have to tell me what it is I am supposed to know. I would also-" his eyes ran briefly over Harry's dishevelled state "-like to know what you have been doing."

He paused and Harry knew he wanted an answer.

"The answer to both of your questions is the same, Snape," Harry spat. Snape remained motionless, awaiting Harry's answer with a calm face. "Bellatrix Lestrange killed my family tonight."

Snape's face paled ever so slightly.

"You killed her." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," replied Harry. "She came at me with a knife. We fought and she slipped. She killed herself, but it was my fault."

Snape surveyed him without hint of emotion, but he was stunned. Bellatrix was one of Voldemort's favourites. He would not be happy.

"Where did this occur?"

"Privet Drive. But you still haven't answered my question."

"I did not know," replied Snape.

Neither spoke, and the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock, slowly counting down the seconds to the time when they would die. Sitting here, Harry thought, was a waste of life. A life he didn't really have anyway.

Snape leant forward on his desk, staring at Harry.

"Tell me, Potter, why do you care so much about the people who wanted nothing more than to forget you?"

Harry froze, anger boiling inside him. How dare he bring that up? It was none of his business.

"Because they were the only family I had left," Harry spat, and the spectre of those beautiful green eyes of his mother floated before him.

"They hated you."

"A lot of people hate me."

"Why did you leave school grounds?"

"I would have thought that was obvious," spat Harry.

"You could have told someone."

"There was no time."

"How did you know that?" Snape seemed disbelieving.

"Because I saw it. I saw her kill my Uncle so I went."

"How did you get there so quickly?" Snape asked. Harry was unprepared for this question and he hesitated.

"I- apparated."

Snape sneered.

"You are not old enough to apparate, Potter. You do not have a license and you have never been taught. Do not lie to me."

Harry sneered right back at him.

"And of course I'm too stupid to teach myself anything," he said.

Snape fell silent then, standing up and pacing his office. He seemed deep in thought and Harry wanted nothing more than to leave.

"Why were you taking out your anger on Mr Malfoy?"

"That," said Harry, "is none of your business."

This statement angered Snape.

"You are in no position to tell me what is and isn't my business, Potter. You have left school grounds, apparated illegally and, by your own admission, committed murder. Believe me; you are in no position to bargain."

Harry remained silent. He had killed her, it was true, though he hadn't meant to.

"Is it true that you have killed Bellatrix Lestrange?" Snape asked abruptly.

"She is dead, though whether I killed her is debatable. Certainly, it was my fault."

"How so?"

"We duelled for a minute, but she tried to run. I stopped her and cornered her in the kitchen. I suppose she was desperate. She grabbed a knife off of the counter and rushed at me. We struggled for a minute before she slipped and fell. The knife went in her stomach."

Harry had often thought about something like this happening. It was amazing how wizards failed to remember that 'muggle' methods off killing were often just as much, if not more efficient than any curse or charm could use. It was in fact, so frowned upon by wizarding society that most wizards nearly always forgot that they could use their hands to disarm or disable their opponent.

Snape stopped pacing and faced Harry, his face a mask of anger.

"Do you _ever_ think before you act, Potter?" he spat.

Harry was angry and he leapt to his feet.

"How dare _you_ question _me_, Snape, and ask if _I_ thought about my actions! You are the one who is a Death Eater! At least I had an excuse for doing what I did!"

Snape's face was ashen; he was livid.

"Do not presume to know why I did what I did, Potter! And let me assure you once and for all, though you may dislike me, I am a teacher and you will give me the proper respect."

Harry laughed. At this moment, he felt as though he were beyond caring.

"Your Death Eater pals just murdered my family and you want respect?" he questioned.

Snape looked as though he were about to hit Harry, or respond with some inane comment about how he was better than Harry, but refrained. Instead, he came out with the thing he knew would hurt Harry the most.

"Tell me Potter," he hissed quietly, "why do you care so much about the people who wanted nothing more than to forget everything about you?"

Harry was silent. It was a good question, but coming from Snape it was nothing more than a petty insult. It irked him that someone like Snape had seen one of his most shameful and private memories and was now using it against him. So Harry did the only thing he could do and fled. He knew there would be repercussions from this incident but right now he didn't care. As he ran, he thought about all the things he could have yelled at Snape. After all, what would someone like him know about family?

But, Harry thought, that no longer applied now. Snape had a daughter, and he'd had a wife. Even Snape had someone who loved them.

Harry was alone.

**oOoOo**

When Harry slammed through the portrait hole into the common room, he immediately ran into a wall of bodies. The common room was packed with students and their parents, all talking and gesturing happily.

"It's so good to be back here," enthused on woman.

"It hasn't changed at all!" agreed another.

It was a moment before anyone noticed that Harry had entered, but when someone did, everyone stopped talking. No one seemed to notice that he was dirty, dishevelled and had smears of blood on him, except for-

"Harry!"

Harry looked towards the source of the voice and saw the Weasley's and the Grangers staring at him in horror. Hermione rushed over to him but he wrestled out of her grip.

"Not now, Hermione," he mumbled, and made to open the portrait to leave. Ron joined Hermione at his side, and Harry saw Mr and Mrs Weasley striding over as well.

"What happened, mate?" asked Ron, looking at a particularly nasty cut that Harry had received from the knife.

Harry shook his head and pushed the portrait open, clambering out into the hall. He took off at a run.

**oOoOo**

Harry didn't tell anyone what had happened to his relatives. He didn't give his friends the explanation they deserved about what had happened. He just muddled on as he had been doing since Sirius died, taking each day as it came and hoping he'd live to see one more.

He stopped pretending that he was going to get better and accepted that this was the way things were going to be. He woke up and forgot his nightmares and went to class. He went to dinner with his friends and ate just enough as he thought he'd need to keep his body functioning.

But the only problem was, his body wasn't functioning properly anymore. He couldn't think, he was constantly tired, and always sick. His glamour charms were becoming weaker and weaker and Ron and Hermione had both started asking him how he was feeling.

It was the morning of the third last day before the Christmas holidays and Harry was standing in front of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, waiting to go out onto the pitch. He stood slightly stooped, propped up against his broom, his team mates looking towards the pitch in jittery excitement.

Weeks ago, Harry would have said that they had no chance of losing, but now he wasn't sure. It wasn't that he doubted the abilities of his team, it was himself. It was the first competition since _it_ had happened, and Harry was afraid his lack of concentration would cost them the game.

But as always, he ploughed resolutely onwards and walked onto the pitch at the call from the commentator. In the upper rows of the stands sat the parents, the Grangers with the Weasleys. He had eventually been introduced to the Grangers, though he wasn't sure what their opinion of him was after the scene in the Gryffindor common room. They had shaken his hand and beamed at him, though their furtive glances at each other and then their daughter were slightly unconvincing of their trust.

Harry shook the hand of the Ravenclaw captain's hand and with a wonderful rush of air the game had begun. Harry sped through the clear blue sky, the wind buffeting him this way and that. This was how life should be, exhilarating and free, he thought.

He felt a rush of wild excitement as Katie scored and did a loop-the-loop, feeling better than he had in a long time. Coming out of the loop he noticed Cho, tailing him as usual. He shook his head in disappointment. You couldn't spend your life following other; you would only live to regret it. Suddenly Harry didn't want the day to end. He hadn't felt this good in so long- the euphoria of flying, the competitiveness and the complete and utter sense of perfection.

For this reason, when Harry saw the snitch about half an hour into the game, he turned in the opposite direction and powered away. Checking to make sure Cho was still following him, he dashed towards the opposite end of the pitch.

A loud boo came from the Gryffindors as Ravenclaw scored and Harry looked at the scoreboard. Gryffindor led with a score of one hundred and twenty, eighty points more than Ravenclaw.

The day was perfect for Quidditch really. A light breeze whistled through the trees and cooled the players, the sun was bright and the sky clear. Harry smiled dreamily, his mind drifting from the game. He surveyed the rows of parents, some watching as there children pulled dangerous stunts on their brooms. His eyes slid along the top-most row to Narcissa Malfoy, sitting next to a man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Pansy Parkinson. Her eyes were narrowed in dislike, fixed on Harry as he circled the pitch.

Dropping his gaze, Harry looked instead at the watching teachers. Dumbledore was not present and again Harry worried for his health. But the person sitting next to Professor Tonks made Harry stall in mid-air, thoughts of Dumbledore rushing from his mind.

Remus Lupin sat watching the game, his hand clasped slightly in Tonk's. Harry was glad that Lupin had finally come to Hogwarts and hoped he would stay for the feast tonight farewelling the parents.

Suddenly Cho darted past him, swooping towards the goal post. In his daze, Harry had forgotten to look for the Snitch and Cho was now hot on it's tail. Harry dived after her, coming in below her to prevent her going lower. The strategy worked and Harry narrowed the gap between them, his hand stretched out behind Cho's.

Screams were coming from the stands; it was all up to him, and suddenly Harry was hit with a strong, irresistible emotion. He couldn't lose this. Losing this would be a loss of pride, a loss of dignity. So with a final grunt of effort and what could have possible been a snarl, Harry threw himself forwards and grasped the struggling gold Snitch between his fingers.

Victory was sweet.

**oOoOo**

Harry didn't see Remus throughout the day, which he thought rather strange. When it finally came time to head down to the farewell feast, Harry hung around outside the doors, hoping to see him, but he never came. He wasn't up at the staff table, but then again, neither was Tonks yet.

As he had done on the day of the parent's arrival, Harry left, this time deciding to find Remus. The first place he looked was Tonks' office, and he was pleased to find them both there. He was about to knock on the door when Remus spun around, a snarl on his face. It dropped the moment he saw Harry, but Harry stepped back in alarm.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I was just coming to see you."

"No, that's okay, Harry," said Remus, a slightly confused and uncomfortable look on his face. "Nymphadora was just heading down to the feast anyway."

Strangely, Tonks didn't object to being called by her first name, and Harry bid her good night as she passed him. She was looking better, he decided.

Harry slowly stepped into the office, unsure of himself, but Remus rushed forward and enveloped him in a hug.

"I'm sorry about before, Harry. I just thought- oh, never mind. You seem different, that's all."

Harry felt a chill creep up his spine. How much had Remus noticed?

"Why aren't you at the feast, Harry?" asked Remus, a concerned look on his face.

Harry only shrugged in reply, taking the vacated spot in front of Tonk's desk. Remus sat in front of him, chin resting on his hands.

"It's good to see you again, Remus, where have you been?" Harry asked.

Remus' face assumed a closed look, but after a second he smiled brightly.

"Business, Harry, you know what I am."

Harry nodded.

"You flew well today, Harry. Your parents would have been proud."

Harry was silent. A lump seemed to form in his throat at the mention of his parents.

"What were they like?" he asked abruptly. Remus lowered his hands to the table, sadly studying an old scar on his thumb. He seemed unwilling to look at Harry.

"They were- very decent people. It is the biggest crime that you were not old enough to remember them when they died. Your father...he was an amazing Quidditch player, just like you. A chaser, though. You told me what you saw in Dumbledore's pensieve and I don't want you to think that your father was really like that." He smiled sadly, meeting Harry's eyes. "One day I'll show you some of my memories. Your father was…everything a Gryffindor should be. He was brave, confident- perhaps overly so, and he despised anything to do with the dark arts. He was mostly polite, but he liked to pull a prank or two." Remus grinned now. "He was a wonderful, loyal friend."

"And my mother?" Harry questioned softly.

Remus' grin faded slightly.

"Lily was one of the kindest people I ever met. She cared for everyone- you saw the Pensieve. She was one of the brightest students in our year and she had a wonderful sense of humour. Her and James- they were perfect together. Everyone thought so. They married just under two years after we left school, and you came along about three years after that. You were such a beautiful baby."

Remus paused and for a few seconds a brief flicker of uncertainty passed over his face, but then it was gone.

"They both loved you so much, Harry. It was the worst thing that they were taken from you."

Harry nodded.

"Where…where are they buried?" he asked.

Remus looked as though he had been expecting this question.

"They were buried with honours in a cemetery behind the church where they married. Your grandparents are there also."

"Would you- would you be able to take me there?"

Remus nodded.

"Of course. You're staying here for the holidays I presume?"

Harry looked up at him.

"No one's told you, have they?" Harry asked, slightly astounded that Remus hadn't been informed.

"Told me what, Harry?" Remus asked, a worried look appearing on his face.

"The Dursleys are dead," said Harry bitterly. Remus jumped up.

"What? When?" he asked, clearly agitated.

"Three nights ago. Bellatrix Lestrange killed them."

Remus' face clouded with fury, though Harry knew it was because of Bellatrix, not because of the Dursleys. Remus seemed to bring himself under control and looked down at Harry.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I really am," he said, and Harry could see that it was true. He smiled briefly at Remus and stood up.

"Thankyou, Remus. It's been good talking to you. I'll see tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Well, don't hit me if it was boring. The next two chapters (especially the second one) hold lots of important information and action. Remember to review! As to the questions I've had about Harry being a vampire: Yes, vampires do take pride in pure blood, but that isn't what makes them a Lord. What makes a vampire a Lord is their magical ability. Also, sorry about disappointing those who wanted Harry to feed off/kill Bellatrix. In that regard, he's still getting used to the urges he feels and he finds the thought of drinking blood disgusting. All will be resolved soon, however. Thirdly, someone said that they think Harry is too angsty; one, I like angsty Harry, two, vampires are VERY TEMPERAMENTAL. Lastly, someone said that Katherine was a bit sue-ish. For this I profusely apologise- I hate Mary-Sues and I was really trying not to make her one; obviously I failed. Thankyou to those who continue to follow this story- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 15: Of Christmas and Clues**


	15. Of Christmas and Clues

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 15**

**Of Christmas and Clues**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Ron and Hermione waved at Harry and boarded one of the thestral-drawn carriages. He waited until they had trundled past the lake and out of the gates before he walked back into the castle and headed back to Gryffindor tower. He changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt (to hide the scar) and hurried back down to the entrance hall.

"Ready to go, Harry?" asked Remus.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry replied, grinning slightly.

The two of them walked to the gates and Remus gripped his elbow.

"We're going to apparate from here," he said, and Harry nodded. "It's a bit uncomfortable, but don't struggle and you'll be fine."

Harry nodded again and a second later there was an odd whooshing sound and he felt as though he were getting sucked through a vacuum. His ears felt as though there was an enormous pressure pushing against them and his eyes felt like they were about to pop out of his head.

Then suddenly it was over and Harry felt firm ground beneath his feet. The air was distinctly warmer here and birds were singing in the trees. A quaint church stood at the far end of a long green lawn surrounded by a cool green grove of trees. Remus looked off to the side of the church, a strange, lopsided smile on his face as though he were remembering something funny that he had been nervous about doing. Good old Remus, Harry thought, always sticking to the rules.

Remus came out of his daze and gestured to Harry.

"This way," he said, and Harry followed him across the open expanse of grass. They passed the church and a thicket of trees and emerged onto a large open hillside, dotted with trees and littered with graves.

The graves of Lily and James Potter lay under a large old maple tree, the headstones white and clean. Harry walked slowly up to them and ran his fingers over his mother's name. A kind of grief swelled in his heart, but he dimly realised that this wasn't where he wanted to be. He would come back, some other time, and sit here for a while, just him and his parents, but right now he wanted to see the place where it had all happened.

"Remus?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Can you take me to Godric's Hollow? Please?"

Remus was silent and when Harry turned around he saw a sadness on his face.

"All right. Come here." Harry went back to his side and gripped Remus' elbow. Remus took a last look at the graves and they Disapparated.

**oOoOo**

Godric's Hollow was dark and gloomy, at least on this particular day. The sky was thick with clouds, threatening rain, and cold wind buffeted the two as they walked through the streets of the small town.

"I haven't been back here since that night," said Remus, gazing off into the distance. "I wish now that I had."

Harry wanted to ask why, but he thought Remus might not want to answer. Instead, thy walked side by side up a silent lane, sided by sweeping willow trees. The canopy of leaves formed a roof over the road and the wind whistled through the tunnel they made with unnatural ferocity. Their destination sat at the end of the lane.

Harry thought that at one time this estate must have been very beautiful, but now it was overgrown and wild. When they reached the end of the lane, Harry stopped. He could see the house from here, or at least the remnants of it and he was struck by a sudden remembrance of that night; the screams, the green lights, that high, cold, cruel laugh, and then, like a rumble of thunder, the big black motorbike that had belonged to Sirius.

Slowly, leaves crinkling underfoot, Harry advanced towards the house and saw that the ground around the rubble, was completely bare of growth for a distance of about twenty metres. One wall of the house was still towering in place, blackened and burnt, threatening to topple at any moment. Half of another slanted down to the ground, the bricks now lying disused on the ground.

And suddenly Harry was struck by other memories, ones he had not had before that were brought on by the sight of the house. He saw his mother standing in the kitchen, smiling; his father laughing at something she had said; and there was Harry himself, looking into what must have been a mirror, and Harry noticed with a start that he had no scar.

A faint memory of a scent seemed to linger in his nostrils, and the sweet sound of a lullaby. Yes, this was what he had come for. For remembrance, for a sense of closure, and for hope that one day he would finally be free of the blackness that he saw now.

He turned back to Remus and smiled.

"Thankyou, Remus."

Remus seemed to understand and nodded slightly, his eyes returning to the remains of the house. Harry understood then, that Remus must feel he pain even more than him. He found himself jealous that someone else could be sadder about his parents' deaths than Harry himself was, but he now realised that it must be possible, for Remus had known them far longer than him.

Such, thought Harry, was the reality of the world.

**oOoOo**

Christmas morning dawned bright and cold, snow falling lightly outside the window. In the time since the holidays had begun, Harry had kept to himself; most of the Gryffindors were gone, and he didn't feel like associating with anyone else. He saw Katherine occasionally but did not speak to her, still ashamed of what had happened between them. He knew he should speak to her, but still he avoided it, knowing there would be plenty of time for talking.

When Harry woke he saw the customary pile of presents sitting merrily at the end of his bed. With no one left in the dormitory to share the presents with, Harry set about opening them straight away. The first was from the Weasleys, a warm, fluffy jumper which Harry put on straight away, and a huge box of cakes and treats. Ron and Hermione's presents came wrapped together; a lengthy card telling him they were disappointed he had not accepted the invitation to come to the Burrow and that they were here if he needed to talk to him.

Ron had sent him a book on Quidditch techniques, Hermione a book on defensive and offensive spells. Finally Harry had reached the bottom of the pile and picked up the wrapping paper, only to see another gift. Harry frowned and picked it up. It was long and thin, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. A note was attached.

_Lord V'Ardian, _

_I believe you will find this to be of use. It is half of the staff of the Immortals, though I am unaware of where the second half is. I ask that you reconsider a meeting between us. _

Harry dropped the note on the bed and, hands shaking slightly in anticipation, retrieved the long package from the floor. He pulled the string loose and pushed back the brown paper to see a brilliant silver bar, inlaid with runes and symbols of all kinds. The top of the staff caved inwards slightly, a thin spike protruding from the centre of it. Harry wondered what the other half of it was.

With a start he noticed a designed wrought into the metal, just below the top of the staff. He ripped back his sleeve and compared the two of them.

They were not the same; extremely similar, but not the same. Harry now knew that the scar was connected with the vampires, but that didn't explain how he had given it to Malfoy.

Placing the staff carefully on the bed, Harry retrieved the book. He opened it to find a detailed picture of the staff, a small globe sitting atop it. Harry recognised it instantly. Scrambling off his bed, he rushed over to his trunk and threw the lid open. Digging to the bottom of the trunk he found the sphere of crystal that had been sent to him on his birthday.

When he slid the ball onto the top of the staff, the effect was instantaneous. They fit perfectly, seeming to meld together to form one. There was a flash of bright light; a release of magic so powerful it knocked Harry over. His hand seemed glued to the staff and the scar on his arm tingled unpleasantly. Harry felt as though his magic was flowing out of him and into the staff and back again. It was as if the staff were a physical part of him.

And suddenly it stopped.

"Wow," Harry murmured. The feel of the power had been amazing, and he craved more. He wondered what they staff was for and resolved to read more about it later. For the time being however, he felt good, and he wasn't going to waste it here in the tower. Pulling on some robes and a warm cloak, Harry hurried down to the entrance hall and outside into the swirling snow. The cold was invigorating and Harry suddenly felt like running. The feeling was childish though, and he resisted the urge.

He strolled down to the lake, where frost glittered at the edge of the water. The giant squid was nowhere to be seen and Harry thought it must be in the deeper water where it was warm. Pulling up the hood of his cloak to shield against the wind, Harry headed for the right side of the castle, intending to walk around it. It was so quiet and peaceful out here; if Harry stopped the only thing he could hear was the soft hush of snowflakes and the whisper of the win. With a small smile he rounded the back of the castle.

Students rarely came around here; Harry himself had never ventured here. There was nothing to see, really. A few mountains rose up in the distance, stark soldiers against the swirling white sky. A few seats lined the walls, beneath leafless brown trees.

A number of alcoves dipped in to the side of the castle and it was as Harry was passing one of these that he heard a noise. Turning to look into the darkened space, he saw exactly the person he least wanted to speak to. They stopped still, staring at each other, until Harry finally found his voice. As much as he wanted to turn away, the time had come to talk to her.

With a sigh, he made his way into the dry space and sat next to her, dropping his head into his hands. They sat in silence like that for a few minutes, both staring out at the churning whiteness.

"What do you want?" Katherine finally asked.

Harry shrugged.

"I was out walking; I wasn't looking for you. I just saw you and I thought…well, you deserve an explanation for what happened."

"Really, Harry," she said, looking at him icily, "you don't have to."

Harry gave a wry laugh.

"I don't want to, Katherine," he said, standing up in frustration, "but I have to tell someone. You have no idea what it's like for me; I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't concentrate on anything I'm supposed to be doing."

He turned to face her and saw that she had slipped a small vial of clear liquid from her pocket and was turning it slowly in her fingers. With a small murmur of what could have been either satisfaction or decision, she stood up and approached Harry, pulling the cap of with a small _pop_.

"Do you know what this is, Harry?" she asked, stopping in front of him.

"No," he replied, confused.

She laughed.

"Of course you wouldn't. You're terrible at Potions. I, on the other hand, am quite adept."

She tipped her head back and swallowed the small amount of liquid, her nose scrunched up in revulsion.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"I know what's wrong with you, Harry."

Harry sighed, muttering a half-hearted curse under his breath.

"Better you than anyone else, I guess," he murmured. "How did you find out?"

"There were a number of things. At first I was just curious about why my father acted the way he did in Potions when he looked at you. Most people wouldn't notice a thing, but I can read him like a book, and he looked troubled. So, I took a sip of the Glamour Potion and I saw the same thing my father did. You looked like you were wasting away, Harry," she said seriously. "You've been very stupid, you know. How long has it been? I saw you the other day, when you nearly lost control."

She paused and stared at him, but didn't hesitate any longer.

"The potion I just took, it will stop me from Turning, and you just need-"

"No way!" Harry interrupted. "No way in hell," he swore, holding up his hands in protest.

"You need it, Harry, don't lie to yourself. I don't know how long this has been going on, but you can't do this forever. Surely you must know that."

"I can't- I just- Katherine, it's disgusting!"

Harry objected, but he was weakening. The invitation was so tempting, so inviting, and he _wanted_ it, so badly. He took a small step forward, his eyes drawn irresistibly to the smooth skin at the side of her neck.

"You need to hurry. The effects of the potion don't last long," Katherine urged, and it was all Harry needed. With a hint of trepidation he closed the gap between them and cupped her face with his hands. He slid his hand down to the base of her neck and she tipped her head to the side, her dark hair falling away to expose a pulsing vein.

His eyes fixed to the spot, Harry lowered his head as Katherine's eyes flew shut. She let out a small gasp as his fangs pierced her neck, but he didn't stop. The blood swelled out of the incisions and rolled, soft and warm, over his tongue. She gave a small moan as he began to suck, the liquid inviting and satisfying. Already he felt energised, as he hadn't in months.

But he had barely swallowed the first small mouth full when he heard foot steps, clumping quickly through the snow. He pulled back in alarm, the fangs shrinking thankfully quickly and turned to see who had interrupted them. Katherine stood in front of him, her hand still on his waist where it had come to rest as he fed.

The intruder came in the form of Tonks, who looked surprised at what she was seeing, though she hid it quickly. She gave a small smile and Harry was extremely glad he had heard her coming. He stepped hurriedly back from Katherine.

"Hi, Tonks."

"That's Professor Tonks," she said, her smile slightly fixed on her face.

"Er- right, sorry Professor," he replied, wondering when Tonks ever would have insisted on him calling her that.

"Students aren't supposed to be around here," she stated, looking pointedly at the two of them.

With a confused look at Tonks, Harry and Katherine passed around her and began walking.

"A word, Harry, if you don't mind," called Tonks, and Harry turned. Katherine kept walking without glancing back. Tonks beckoned to Harry and they sheltered again in the small alcove.

"Is she your girl friend, Harry?" she asked seriously, arms crossed over her chest.

"What! No, she's not!" Harry stammered, aware of what she must have thought she'd seen.

"Good, because I wouldn't like to see you getting too friendly with the Slytherins. I mean, I was one, but in my day I'm sure they were all a lot nicer. And you know Miss Winter is friends with Malfoy."

"Oh, right," Harry shrugged. With a nod from Tonks, Harry was left standing in the silent alcove by himself, wondering what exactly had just happened. He gazed out through the swirling snow towards the forest, and it was then that he remembered the place with the waterfall. He raised his wand and summoned his broom and soon he was zooming through the pelting snow, shivering slightly from the cold.

As he flew, he remembered standing so close to her, only moments before. He could still feel her soft skin on his lips, the tang of her blood lingering on his tongue. He knew it would drive him crazy if he couldn't get more.

Suddenly the ground opened up beneath him revealing a view of the pristine oasis in the middle of the forest. With a sudden leap of joy, which he couldn't really attribute to anything, Harry dove towards the water. As he dove through the air however, there seemed to be an invisible force pressing up against him and he found himself getting slower and slower. He pointed the nose of the broom deeper but it had no effect. With a grunt of effort he lunged forward but found he could go no lower.

He looked down in consternation at the scene below him and decided on a different approach. He flew as far as he could and found the edge of the magical barrier, coming to a stop on the ground beside it. He wondered how this place could have been here and no one had found it. Reaching out a hand he found the barrier and followed it around, hoping to find a way in.

The snow was slowing now, though it was still cold, and Harry huddled into his cloak as much as he could. He trudged blearily through the piled snow, one hand out to follow the barrier.

Eventually he reached a rock face, standing solid against the wind. He hurried into it, finding that the barrier ran along its length. Fed up with wind and snow, Harry stopped for a rest, but with a pleasant surprise he noticed that he did not need to go any farther. Running the entire length of the rock face were runes and symbols, some similar in shape to the one on Harry's arm. Stepping back to get a better look, he noticed what was obviously a doorway and hurried forward, excitement causing him to be a little foolish. Unfortunately, the 'doorway' in the rock was solid. With a thump he ran into the rock and stood back, scowling. The rock was flat and smooth, save for a hole at waist height that Harry thought must have fitted some kind of strangely shaped key.

With a nagging feeling of disappointment and thinking that there was something he should be remembering, he climbed back on his broom, deciding to come back when the weather was fairer.

**oOoOo**

The initial feeling of triumph and invincibility that Harry had felt after tasting blood for the first time quickly diminished to disgust that he had done such a thing and he felt slightly miffed that Katherine had allowed him to do so. The next time he saw her he told her so and she said it was his choice if he wanted to be a weakling. Feeling highly insulted, he told her that on no condition was she to tell anyone, and left her standing in the hall, her usual proud look firmly in place.

Before he knew it, Ron and Hermione were back and he spent some time with them, regaining some of the camaraderie they had lost over the last few months. In the last week of the holidays he found himself increasingly tired and sleeping a lot, but brushed it off and explaining to Ron and Hermione that he was catching up on some well-deserved sleep.

And with a final, violent thunderstorm and mysterious shower of shooting stars, school resumed once again.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Yes, this chapter was short, but important. The next chapter is my favourite. Thanks for those who reviewed; I hope you enjoy the next chapter- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 16: Of History and Horror**


	16. Of History and Horror

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 16**

**Of History and Horror**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

On Monday morning Harry became aware of a very important piece of information that had been kept from him. So important was it, that Harry felt as though he might have the power to kill the person responsible. It had started off as any ordinary morning, in which Harry had been perfectly fine, and ended up with Harry in a mood that could almost be described as blood-lust.

He had been walking to Potions after returning early to Gryffindor Tower from breakfast, when he had seen Firenze. He was considering the intelligence of asking Firenze what he knew about the V'Ardian Clan, when he felt a presence at his elbow. Harry looked around, expecting to see Ron and Hermione, or perhaps another of his peers, when he was confronted by the glittering spectre of Professor Trelawney, who incorrectly interpreted the look of disgust on Harry's face.

"Yes, I know, dear. Dreadful half-breed horse creature, isn't he?" she asked, obviously eager for a fellow to her cause.

"Er-"

"I know!" she exclaimed. "You are absolutely right! Such a piece of filth should never have been allowed entrance to this grand establishment. Why, I remember when I first came here. I was in such high demand! And now, now they burden me with this! The disrespect! The inconvenience! I will not pretend I am not offended," she rambled on. "The distress I feel at this great injustice clouds my Inner Eye. How could Dumbledore bestow such a tragic disservice upon me?"

Harry wondered how Dumbledore could ever have bestowed such a disservice upon the students of Hogwarts.

"I remember when that man interviewed me. Why, he was positively thrilled to meet me. And not only him! In the middle of my interview I must have fallen asleep- the fates were very hard on me at that particular time- but when I awoke there was a great fuss going on about me. It seemed another man had been just as keen to lay eyes upon me, but of course, being held in the high regard that I am, he was removed from the establishment to afford me some measure of privacy. Of course, I did not know Severus then, but-"

"WHAT?" Harry exploded, his heart skipping a beat.

"Yes, dear. Severus Snape, you know him- the Potions Master. The fellow seemed quite interested to speak to me-"

But Harry wasn't listening. Instead, he had spun around and was storming towards the dungeons, with far more fury than he had ever stormed away from it with. He was filled with such anger that he couldn't think of anything else but getting to Snape, and he ignored the yell of the group of fourth years that he shoved roughly aside.

His footsteps rang in the enclose dungeons, echoing off the stone walls, and he slammed the door open with a bang, flinging his books down on the nearest desk possible.

"Ten points for being late, Potter," informed Snape, and Harry dimly noticed that the rest of the class was already assembled inside. Upon seeing Harry striding towards him however, Snape seemed to realise that something was very wrong. Harry snarled and launched himself at Snape with a grunt. His fist collided squarely with Snape's jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"You bastard!" spat Harry, standing over Snape, his fists curled at his sides. The class had gone ominously silent. "You utter bastard!"

Snape looked up at him in shock and struggled to his feet, rage growing quickly on his features. Harry grabbed him by his collar before he could rise completely and slammed him up against the wall.

"Get a hold of yourself Potter!" Snape ordered, his eyes darting to the watching class.

"All these years…" Harry hissed. "All these years you have insulted them to my face, and abused their memory."

Harry leaned in close, his voice lowered to a threatening whisper.

"Wasn't killing them enough?"

Snape's face paled and Harry spun around to the watching students.

"Get out," he hissed. No one moved.

"Get. Out," Harry enunciated, raising his hands. The class shared looks of fright as they felt an invisible wave of power rush over them. "Now."

Suddenly a Ravenclaw rushed out and spurred the rest of her classmates on. Hermione shot a disbelieving look at Harry but left behind a group of Slytherins that were shooting worried looks at Snape. Katherine was the last to leave, an uncertain look on her face. Her gaze flickered between Harry and her father.

"Harry…"

"Close the door," he ground out, before turning back to Snape. The door closed softly behind him and Snape bristled at Harry.

"How dare you, Potter. You are to go to the Headmaster's office at once-"

"Shut up!" yelled Harry. "You are absolutely despicable! You have done nothing but bad-mouth my parents since the day I met you. How could you do that when it was you who sold them out to Voldemort?"

"Who told you?" Snape hissed, his face pale.

"That doesn't MATTER!" Harry shouted, stepping closer to Snape. He grabbed Snape's collar, pushing him back against the wall with unnatural strength. He knew he was losing control. "You lying, stinking, piece of filth," he snarled. "You're just a bitter old man who can't accept the fact that he's nothing more than a slimy Death Eater servant to some-"

At that moment, Harry was blasted backwards, sliding along the floor and coming to a rest facing away from Snape. He seethed with anger, feeling fangs emerging from his gums. He was dizzy, panting heavily, and extremely angry. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Get away from me before I do something we both regret!" he hissed, shrugging Snape's hand off his shoulder. He was an inch away from snapping.

"Potter-" Snape said sternly, attempting to turn Harry to face him.

In that moment, all of the pent-up rage and grief and tiredness that had been plaguing Harry was released and he spun around, hissing and baring his fangs. Snape reeled back in horror, his mouth agape.

"Merlin," he whispered. The silhouette of Snape was the last thing Harry saw before he passed out a second later.

**oOoOo**

When Harry's vision cleared a hand was propping his head up while another was pouring a warm substance down his throat. With a gagging splutter he realised what it was and felt sick to his stomach. He lurched forward and spat it out. The person holding him up made a sound of disgust and Harry realised that it was Snape.

"Drink, Potter."

"No," said Harry. He tried to sit up but Snape held him back and grabbed his nose.

"You _will_ drink," he said, and with no other choice besides suffocating, Harry gulped down the blood that was filling his mouth. Wrenching himself out of Snape's grasp with a gaspm he leaned over and spat the remains onto the stone floor.

"_Damn you_," he muttered.

Snape grasped his arm and hauled Harry to his feet, shoving him into a chair.

"How long?" he demanded.

"Stuff off," slurred Harry, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

Snape leant over Harry, his expression livid.

"This is no time to play games, Potter. I wish to know-"

The door of the classroom opened, admitting a flustered looking Professor McGonagall surrounded by several curious students.

"Severus, is everything okay?" she asked, looking between Harry and Snape.

"Everything is fine, Minerva. If you would please taken my class for this lesson I would be very grateful. Potter and I are having a little chat."

"Oh- yes, very well, then."

Harry glared at Snape as the door shut with a snap behind her.

"Now, you will tell me-"

"No," said Harry loudly. "You will tell _me_ why for six years you have insulted my parents when it is your fault they are dead? For Merlin's sake, you had your revenge or whatever twisted thing it was for you. What is your problem?"

Snape sneered.

"How did you find this out?" asked Snape. Harry glared.

"When Dumbledore told me about his meeting with Trelawney he said a Death Eater was thrown out of the pub. Professor Trelawney told me that it was you," he said coldly.

Snape looked sour.

"Very well. Now you will tell me when you were bitten."

"I don't think that's any of your business," Harry shot back.

"Very well. Why did you not tell anyone? Why did you not tell me when I asked you why you were so ill?"

"Why do you think?" Harry spat. "Do you think I want to be even more of a freak than I am now?"

Snape sneered and stood back. Suddenly though, he lunged forward and gripped Harry's right arm, slipping the sleeve back to reveal the scar.

"Merlin," he breathed, as Harry snatched his arm away. "V'Ardian."

Harry froze.

"How do you know that?" he croaked.

"All vampires carry the mark of their clan, moulded into their own personal symbol. You carry the mark of V'Ardian."

Harry swore beneath his breath, but Snape heard him.

"You already knew you were of V'Ardian though, didn't you?"

Harry stood, shaking his head.

"I have nothing to say to _you_," he sneered, but Snape was in no mood for games.

"Potter, tell me when you were bitten," he said, gripping Harry's arm.

"Don't touch me," Harry spat. "And I swear if you tell anyone about this you will regret it."

"Don't threaten me, Potter. Believe me there is nothing you can do that could destroy me."

"Oh?" said Harry. "Well how about this. If you tell anyone, even Dumbledore about this, I'll tell someone like Malfoy about Katherine."

Harry had never seen such a display of emotion from Snape. His face went from a shade of pale white to dark red, his expression one of shock, fear and anger.

He grabbed Harry and pushed him into the wall.

"How dare you!" he hissed. "No one should know. How- how… of course…" Harry could see realisation dawning on Snape's face. "You could see through the glamour."

"Right in one," sneered Harry, but suddenly he found Snape in his mind, browsing through his memories. And the memories at the foremost of his mind were the ones with Katherine and the night in the park.

Harry tried to block Snape out, but Snape was using all his strength against Harry, and his skills were far superior. Snape saw everything- the night he was bitten, the kiss, the potion. When he pulled out of Harry's memories, Snape was breathing heavily, rage clouding his features.

He seemed unable to speak and for a second Harry was afraid.

"If anything happens to her Potter…anything…I will hold you responsible," Snape said, releasing Harry abruptly. Harry straightened his robes with a jerk. "You stay away from her, Potter, or I swear you will regret it."

Harry saw that Snape was shaking with rage. His hands trembled as he wrenched the door open.

"Go. Tell _no one_."

"No," said Harry, not moving. "Not until you tell me why you turned my parents over to Voldemort."

"That is none of your business," Snape spat, his lips bloodless.

"Did he kill her?" Harry asked cruelly, and Snape paled. "Did he kill your wife? Her name was Evelyn, wasn't it? Evelyn Prewett, younger sister of Molly Prewett?"

"Out _now_, Potter!" screamed Snape, his face puce, his raised arm trembling as it pointed to the door.

"What would Ron think if he knew you were his uncle? Come to think of it, you're about as nice as _my_ uncle was," Harry spat.

Snape was seething, his shoulders rising up and down in time with his heaving chest.

"_How dare you…_"

"I dare because you killed my parents and you have talked about them as if they were dirt since the day I stepped foot in this castle. You had no right."

"I had no choice!" hissed Snape, his hands balled at his sides. "It was my family or yours!"

"And he killed yours anyway, didn't he? That gives you no right to insult mine."

"No, but your father's treatment of me does."

"I am not my father!" roared Harry. "I never have been! I don't hold it against Katherine because she's your daughter."

"And that will be her downfall," hissed Snape. "I have kept her save for fifteen years and I will not allow you to ruin that."

"And what are you going to do about that?" Harry asked.

"Do not think that I would sacrifice my daughter for you, Potter. It does not matter to me if you are the saviour of the wizarding world."

"What if I told you that I will cause the collapse of the wizarding world? Would you hesitate then?"

Harry regretted the words instantly, as he saw comprehension fill Snape's face.

"You…" he breathed. "No, it is not possible," he said slowly.

"Well, tough luck," said Harry bitterly. "I was bitten on my birthday. Fits in with the prophecy, doesn't it? Besides, I think that prophecy was meant for me in the first place. Half of it was in parseltongue."

"You received the letters, then? And the staff?"

"Yes," replied Harry coldly, already having deduced that Snape had been the sender.

Snape raised a weary hand and rubbed his eyes and sighed.

**oOoOo**

And in that cold dark classroom, a tentative and completely unwanted bond was formed; a pact fashioned from the twisted tales of fate and wrought not out of trust, but out of utter and unwilling dependency. Harry left feeling as though he had lost a lot; Snape felt he had lost even more. Neither could trust the other but were forced to trust each other with their lives.

Harry would never be able to forgive Snape for what he had done and in time, Snape would come to hate Harry not because of his father, but because of what he symbolised for his daughter.

But as Harry wandered slowly through the empty halls of Hogwarts later that night, he would think that he was feeling an emotion he could not have attributed to Snape- relief. A great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, though the burden still remained.

Most surprisingly of all however, Harry found that he was feeling better, even though he had fed very little. It was time, he decided, to accept his destiny, accept his condition, and make the most of the life he had. It would never change- he knew that now- he was cursed by fate, by name, and by V'Ardian, and other worries still lingered in his mind, but they were too far out of reach to push away. The memory of the haunting green eyes was at the forefront of his mind, and the poignant words of the prophecy, the only ones he had not yet been able to understand.

_Thrice marked, thrice linked, thrice bound. _

And still there was the frustrating problem of the place in the forest. Maybe now that he was thinking clearly, for the first time in a long time, he would be able to make some sense of it. And then it hit him.

The book.

**oOoOo**

**AN: Well, I liked this chapter. Thanks for the continuing support of this story. Suggestions are appreciated. Should I have more romance? At this stage I have about twice this many chapters planned (35 actually). Should I make it that long or would you like to see the conclusion a bit quicker? Enjoy- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 17: Of Malfoy and Ministers**


	17. Of Malfoy and Ministers

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 17**

**Of Malfoy and Ministers**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

With the weekend came the greatest scandal of the year. Garian Numair, the minister who had been leading the wizarding community of Britain since Fudge's resignation, had been murdered by vampires, mauled in his sleep.

The act sent a shockwave through the government, with potential ministers calling for heavier 'half-breed' legislation in order to win votes. On Saturday morning as Harry sat down and enjoyed his first meal in a long time, the most surprising news of all came in the form of an owl addressed to Ron Weasley.

Ron and Hermione sat across from each other with Harry seated next to Hermione and they were eating in silence when the large black owl landed in the middle of the table. It waddled pompously over to Ron and stretched its leg out, eyes rolled skyward in dignified disapproval. Ron gave it a scowl, having been disconnected from his bowl of bacon and hash browns and removed the tightly furled scroll.

The owl took off in a rush of feathers and Ron unrolled the letter. As he read his mouth dropped open.

"Blimey," he whispered in a hushed tone.

"What is it?" asked Hermione, looking up from her book.

"Bloody hell…" Ron muttered, his eyes whizzing through the letter again.

"What is it?" asked Hermione again, and this time Harry looked up, interested.

"Dad- he's running for Minister…" Ron said, awed.

Hermione's mouth dropped open in a silent 'oh'.

"Wow," said Harry, truly surprised, and he wondered if Mr Wealey was running because of the Order. Hermione echoed his thoughts.

"Well he'll be doing it for," she lowered her voice, glancing conspiratorially around, "you know, the Order. I bet Dumbledore will announce he's backing your Dad to help get him in. Merlin knows we need a decent Minister, someone who's in alliance with the order and isn't full of this half-breed nonsense."

Harry nodded, but Ron still looked gob smacked.

"I don't believe it," he said, and began talking about all of Mr Weasley's Muggle exploits.

Harry would have stuck around for the reminiscing, but excused himself- after all, he had business to attend to. The staff and globe lay securely in his pocket, shrunk down to ideal carrying size. He hurried out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall, heading for the front doors. He was just about to open the door when a hand grabbed him from a shadowy corner and pulled him into a hidden corridor.

"Malfoy," said Harry coldly.

"Potter. I have information for you."

"It better be more useful than your last information," Harry spat.

"Shut it, Potter," sneered Malfoy. "You killed my Aunt, I don't need to be doing this at all."

"You're just trying to save your own skin, Malfoy. If _he_ offered you a better deal you wouldn't be doing this. For all I know you could be feeding me whatever he wants you to."

"Do you want to hear what I have to say?" Malfoy asked impatiently.

"Yes," Harry reluctantly agreed.

"The Dark Lord is planning something at Hogwarts. I don't know the exact date, but it's going to happen soon."

Harry gave an impatient sigh.

"Damn it, Malfoy, can you not give me any valuable information?"

Malfoy's sneer deepened.

"Do you know how much I am risking?" he hissed, glaring at Harry. "Do you know what my father would do if he found out what I was doing?"

"Whatever, Malfoy. I have to go."

Without waiting for a reply, Harry turned and left the castle, summoning his Firebolt. He came to a rest minutes later beneth the large wall of rock, looking with some trepidation at the entrance. He had no idea what was beyond the wall, and knew only that this staff was the key. Squaring his shoulders, he lowered the end of the staff into the hollow in the wall. The crystal globe glowed faintly blue from within a split second before the rock face dissolved away, leaving a stone arch before him.

Stepping through it, Harry found himself in a new world.

This, Harry thought, was what paradise was. Every tree, ever bush, was dotted with bright flowers, the river meandering beneath the sweeping branches. A beautiful bird of a species Harry had never seen before floated regally above the crystal clear water, its bright plumage hailing the sun. In front of Harry a dirt path disappeared out of sight between the trees, and birds chirped in pleasant song. The whole scene exuded a sense of peace, calmness and serenity that Harry had never felt before.

Feeling decidedly more confident, Harry set off along the path, heedless of the possibility that he was heading into danger. How could anything bad happen in this wonderful place? The base of the staff thumped into the ground with a muffled noise with every step he took, and the rhythm was pleasing. Harry was now following the path through a grove of trees, the shadowy wonderland hidden from above by a roof of leaves, thin shafts of sunlight snatching through the branches here and there.

And then suddenly he saw an amazing sight. Through a parting in the trees was a cliff. Coming to a stop on the edge of it he looked out over a huge valley, the river running straight through the middle of it. There, on the opposite side next to the thundering waterfall, was the most beautiful castle Harry had ever seen. It was not made out of dull, grey rock as Hogwarts was, but marble or limestone which seemed to shine with an inner light of its own. Staring in awe at the breath-taking structure, Harry felt mist from the waterfall float over him in a cooling spray. Ivy trailed over the roof and walls of what would more accurately be described as a palace, and Harry then noticed many smaller dwellings running down the cliff face. Tearing his eyes away from the magnificent sight, Harry noticed a rope bridge hanging across the wide open space.

He hurried over to it and took a careful step out, testing the strength. It seemed fine and without further hesitation he continued across. The length was daunting, and Harry felt slightly intimidated by the sheer magnitude of the area in which he was hanging, suspended only by a few pieces of rope. He hurried across the expanse of ropes and wooden planks and came to a rest on a small ledge. Breathing a sigh of relief he continued up the narrow path, his feet now crunching brittle leaves that lay on the ground.

It did not take long for him to come across something of interest- or rather, something of interest came across him.

"Halt, intruder!" came the cry of a stern voice as Harry stood looking at a strange looking plant. Harry looked up in surprise, disgruntled at the interruption of his peaceful contemplation. His eyes sought out the source of the voice, and Harry laid eyes upon the most beautiful man he had ever seen. Now, he used the term 'beautiful' loosely, however it was the first thought that came to his mind. The man was tall and willowy, and had a bow and arrow slung across his back. He obviously did not see Harry as threat, though his hand lingered subtly over a sheathed dagger on his belt.

When the man saw Harry's face however, his eyes widened slightly in shock, though he gave no outward appearance of having been caught by surprise.

"Harry Potter. How did you come by this place? None but the immortals may pass our walls."

Harry inspected the man shrewdly. He was not dressed in any special attire- he looked as though he were out hunting, though what he would hunt on this narrow ledged Harry did not know. Perhaps he had been on his way to some other place.

"Harry Potter is not my only name. To some I am known as a Lord of V'Ardian."

The man's brow furrowed in what could have been slight disgust and he shook his head. As his head moved his hair swung away from his face and Harry saw that he had pointy ears. He was obviously of Elven heritage, though Harry thought it impossible that a whole community of Elves lived in the middle of the Forbidden Forest and not even Dumbledore knew of them.

"Then you are not welcome here," said the man, causing Harry's brow to crease in reply.

"And where is here?" he asked.

"You do not know, yet you have come here anyway?" the man asked, looking at Harry curiously. "Few dare to wander in here unannounced and uninformed."

_Obviously_, thought Harry, but refrained from sarcasm for the time being.

"There are many things that few wizards know. I am no exception."

The man seemed pleased with his reply and nodded.

"This is the home of the Elves, Erithriel. It means 'Place of the Light'.

Harry pondered the aptness of that name.

"You know my name. May I ask yours?"

"I am known as Illirian. My house is Fairwind."

Harry inclined his head deeply.

"Might I ask whom I may speak to?"

"I shall take you to Lord Variel and Lady Ari. They will wish to speak with you."

Harry inclined his head again in gratitude before Illirian turned and began striding down the path, his paces long and fast. Harry hurried to keep up, his robes whipping around his feet.

They walked in silence, though it was not awkward. Illirian seemed completely carefree and peaceful- as one with nature. Harry wondered if all elves were like that.

After only a few minutes of walking, the two arrived at a large set of shining gates, and Harry wondered if they were solid gold. Illirian strode purposefully up to them and laid a finger upon the lock. Immediately it drew away and Illirian pushed the large gate open with apparent ease. Harry was strongly reminded of the vaults at Gringotts and shivered.

Harry was immediately admitted to the walled city and was besieged by an array of tantalising sights and smells. Beautiful music carried on the wind, its haunting melody hinting of an important yet lost message. Harry followed Illirian up what appeared to be the main street, which climbed steadily up hill. Elves stopped their work to stop and stare, and curious children followed them.

The cobbled road led them to another set of gates, intricate designs carved into them. Two guards were stationed there, and they looked stonily at Harry.

"Illirian Fairwind. You have brought a mortal into out kingdom."

"He is no mortal, Falon. I request admittance so that he may speak with our Lord Variel."

The two guards exchanged a look but stepped gruffly aside.

"Very well, Illirian. Were you not good friends with our Lord you would be handed straight to the council for this."

Harry looked between the two men, bewildered, but Illirian shot him a silencing glance. The guard opened the gate to admit the two of them and Illirian murmured to him as they passed though it.

"I am married to Falon's sister. He has never liked me."

Harry nodded in understanding. He'd encountered that particular problem before.

"This is the palace of Erith. The King of the Elves resides here with his wife. Lord Variel is my good friend, as is his wife, Ari. We grew up together."

The palace was cool and inviting, the structure grand and beautiful. Statues and sculptures adorned the halls, works of Elven art. It didn't take long for them to find the King. As Illirian had said, Variel was in his private chambers, sitting with his wife and young daughter.

"Wait here," Illirian ordered, and Harry stood in the hallway as Illirian knocked on the door and entered.

"Liri!" came a joyful voice from within, and Harry heard a chuckled as what sounded like a child ran up to the elf.

"Hello, Leya.

Illirian advanced further into the room and Harry heard him lower his voice into a more serious tone.

"Variel, I have something that needs your urgent attention."

"What is it, Liri?" came a woman's voice.

"I was out hunting along the ridge and I met a man."

Harry heard someone stand up in agitation.

"A mortal?"

"He claims he is not mortal. He is a wizard, but he is also of the lamia."

Footsteps immediately echoed towards the door and it was thrown open in front of Harry, revealing a surprisingly young-looking man with long brown hair. He frowned in confusion as Illirian came to his side. Harry bowed his head in respect.

"My Lord."

"You are Harry Potter." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"Why have you come to Erithriel?" he asked, his gaze probing and unrelenting.

"I didn't know what was here. I just found the barrier and I found the way past it. In all truth I thought it might lead me to the vampire that Turned me."

"Very well. Follow me." He turned abruptly and Harry followed him into a small sitting room. The three of them, Harry, Vairel and Illirian, sat around a low table decorate with delicate inlaid gold. Variel got straight to the point.

"It has been many years since we had a visitor from the mortal world. We do not deal in their business, nor they in ours. We know who you are because the Dark Lord was as great a threat to us as he was to the wizards. We did not know that you had been Turned."

"Few do," replied Harry.

"The lamia have been our foe for many years now. During the last war they sided with the Dark One and it seems that they have chosen the same path in this time. None have entered our walls in decades."

"I am against Voldemort- my state does not change that. The one who turned me- he was of V'Ardian. Do you know where I might find him?"

Illirian raised an eyebrow and Variel seemed agitated at this news.

"Do you know the name of the one who Turned you?"

"I believe he was known as Isautier."

Variel and Illirian shared a concerned glance.

"The V'Ardian Clan is the most powerful clan in the world. They number in the tens of thousands. Isautier is their Prince."

"Merlin…" murmured Harry.

"I believe that Isautier resides in northern France somewhere- he has a chateau there. However, your best option would be to wait until the full moon. Every month the lamia gather for sacrificial rituals and worship. They go to a place called Poseidon's Reach, known to them as Darkwater. It is their meeting place."

"What do they worship?" asked Harry.

"Blood," said Illirian solemnly and bluntly. "It is their life force, just as it is our, but in an entirely different and grotesque way. Their way of life has led them to willingly embrace the Darkness and for that we cannot associate with them."

"Then why was I able to enter Erithriel?"

"All of the lamia are, they just choose not to. This is the realm of the immortals and for them, the mortal world is a much darker and rewarding place."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"And what of Voldemort. He was a danger to you in the last war, you said. Surely he will not have forgotten you?"

"No," scowled Variel, "he will not have, and if he succeeds in acquiring the alliance of the lamia we may very well find ourselves in danger again."

Suddenly Harry was struck by a thought.

"You say that this is the realm of the immortals. You must know something of immortality then. What is it that keeps Voldmort from dying?"

Variel sneered, a look that clashed horribly with his soft features.

"The Dark One is not truly immortal, just as we are not. A true immortal never dies, and there are few creatures that are. Yes, we will live far beyond the years of those in the mortal realm, but it is nothing more than a trick of time. Time travels much slower here than it does in the mortal real. A minute here might be hours in the mortal realm."

_Damn_, thought Harry. They might be missing him shortly.

"Voldemort though, is just as mortal as any human. His body is as susceptible to damage and aging as yours. It is his soul that refuses to leave. It is trapped in the physical realm, through contortions of magic and life, split and mangled like a broken flower. It will remain so until his soul is destroyed, piece by piece, or rejoined."

"So he's split his soul into parts?" asked Harry in disgust.

"The body is the storage place of the soul, but it can be stored in other objects. I heard a rumour, many years ago, that he split it seven times, though into what I do not know."

"Seven times," whispered Harry. "The most powerful magical number…"

Variel inclined his head in agreement.

"To my knowledge only one of these objects has been found, and of course a part of his soul resides in the body itself. The wizards call them 'Horcruxes.'"

**oOoOo**

They talked for some time, but eventually Variel drew the conversation to an end.

"You must leave now, Harry Potter. The people will be wondering about your presence in our home and I don't think it would do well to have anyone know of your other secrets."

"Thankyou."

The King of the Elves inclined his head.

"Do not come here again, at least until times are safer. Illirian will escort you out."

Grasping his staff, Harry stood up and bowed slightly, before turning and following Illirian out of the room.

"He's right, you know," said Illirian. He shook his head in longing. "The mortal realm used to be such a peaceful place. Now…"

"It's all I've ever known," said Harry firmly. "So I can't really agree or disagree."

Harry looked up at the clear sky.

"All I know is that this war is going to get so much worse than it is now and I'm going to be stuck in the middle of it."

"Because you are cursed by V'Ardian."

"That and many other reasons," agreed Harry.

Illirian accompanied him over the rope bridge and all the way back to the barrier.

"I hope I will see you again when times are better," said Illirian, and Harry smiled at his frank solemness. The Elves seemed so carefree yet so serious.

"Me too," smiled Harry, somewhat sadly.

They bid each other farewell and Harry retrieved his broomstick and shrunk the staff down to size, stuffing it in his pocket.

"Until next time," he hailed, and rose into the air, his mind awash with all he had learned today.

**oOoOo**

When Harry arrived back at Hogwarts, it was well into the evening. He hurried up to his dormitory to find everybody at dinner. With a frustrated sigh he returned the staff and his Firebolt to his chest and returned to the Entrance Hall. Dinner hadn't started long ago, so he didn't think he would be missed that much. He quietly slipped in through the doors to the Great Hall and hurried for his seat.

Up at the staff table some of the teachers were staring at him- professor McGonagall was leaning over to talk to Dumbledore urgently, who looked up at Harry with a slight frown of relief on his face. Students were looking up and stopping their conversations to stare at Harry.

He hurried to his seat and slid into his spot next to Hermione.

"Harry! Where have you been?" gasped Hermione.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, confused. He looked at Ron, who was pale beneath his freckles.

"You've been missing since yesterday morning, Harry. Where were you?"

Harry paled. Had he really been gone that long? He looked up at the staff table to see Dumbledore staring at him, and Snape casting him a cold, calculating look.

"I- I didn't think I was gone for so long," Harry said. "I thought I only left this morning."

"And you missed the moon?" asked Hermione, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

"I'd rather not go into it, Hermione, I'm sure I'm going to have enough trouble explaining where I was to Dumbledore. And since when did Dumbledore start coming to meals again?" Harry asked, successfully changing the subject.

Hermione shrugged.

"Last night, but he looks absolutely terrible, don't you think?"

He did thought Harry, and as he scanned the row of adults at the staff table he noticed for the first time just how ragged they all looked. Snape was as pale and sour-looking as usual, his gaze still flickering intermittently back at Harry, while Tonks looked pale and withdrawn, as she had all year. Dumbledore looked frail and old, worn out as Harry had never seen him before. Professor McGonagall's lips formed a thin straight line as she speared a carrot on her fork with exaggerated fierceness. Professor Sprout's hair was wild and frilly.

Harry wondered how he could have misjudged the time so severely.

When dinner finished, Harry took himself up to the staff table to explain his disappearance. He told a weary Dumbledore that he had been revising spells for the DA and had fallen asleep in the Room of Requirement and lost track of the time. It was a weak excuse, but it was the best he could think of at such short notice.

Tonks was staring at him beadily and Harry remembered her frosty treatment of him last time they had encountered each other.

Times certainly were strange.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Well, another chapter up. This was originally going to be two chapters but I thought that would be dragging it out a bit too much. This chapter was longer than normal- more the length I like them to be. My chapters in this story have turned out to be quite short and I'm not too happy with that but I find it's made it run a bit more smoothly. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 18: Of Contests and Capture**


	18. Of Contests and Capture

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 18**

**Of Contests and Capture**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

_Slap._

The stinging sensation across his cheek made Harry wince.

"How dare you?" hissed Katherine, a look of outrage splashed across her face. She had finally caught Harry with no one else around.

"What?" asked Harry, stepping out of the range of her arms.

"What did you do that to my father for? I can't believe you hit him!"

Harry glared at Katherine coldly.

"Tell me, Katherine, what do you think of your father?"

"You're avoiding the topic," she spat.

"No, Katherine, this is exactly what it's about. What do you think of him?"

"He's my father, what do you think I think of him?"

"I wouldn't know," said Harry, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've never had one."

His blunt answer stopped her tirade and she replied to his question.

"My father is…" she hesitated slightly. "He's a good man. He's bitter, and angry, but I know him better than anyone and he's intelligent and deep down he's really very, very caring."

"Well I'm glad one of us can see the good in him," said Harry coldly.

Katherine glared at him.

"What has he ever done to you to deserve what you did to him, Harry?"

Harry laughed.

"Don't you hear him in class, the way he treats me? Don't you hear him whispering insults about my parents as he passes me?"

Katherine looked at him calmly.

"Of course, everyone hears him, but he has to appear to hate you, doesn't he?"

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Look, if you were smart you would end this conversation right now," he said. As much as he hated Snape, he liked Katherine and he wasn't about to disillusion her with the truth of what Snape had done. He didn't want her to see her father in the same way that Harry had seen his in the Pensieve- in a cruel, bullying and arrogant light. But it seemed that Katherine didn't want to listen to Harry. She stood there glaring at him, her composure as proud, superior and arrogant as the first day he had met her, and he admired her determination.

"Harry, I'm not stupid. Something made you snap that day and I want to know what it was."

"I know you aren't stupid, Katherine, but you don't want to hear this, okay? Please, just drop it."

He turned to go, praying that she would forget it, but she didn't.

"If you don't tell me why you assaulted my father, I will tell him about you."

Harry spun around again to face her, suddenly angry. How dare she?

"I can't believe you would stoop that low," he spat. It was a sneaky tactic- crude, deceitful, childish, and completely below what he would have expected of her. "And before you even think of doing that I should tell you that he already knows, anyway."

Katherine had the grace took look slightly ashamed at the truth of his statement and her cheeks blushed a pale red, but she didn't back down from Harry's furious glare.

"Don't insult me, Harry. What you did was pretty low as well."

Harry couldn't believe he was having this conversation with her.

"Well he deserved it," spat Harry, remembering the sense of utter satisfaction he had gotten from hitting Snape.

"I can't believe you, Harry. I thought you were better than that. Obviously I was wrong," she sniffed.

Harry found himself getting increasingly angry and he knew his eyes were changing.

"Fine," he ground out in a deadly whisper. "Fine. You want to know what your precious father did? Why don't you go and ask him? I know why you don't. It's because you're afraid that it will be something really bad and he won't tell you because he won't want you to think badly of him. Isn't that right?"

Katherine looked at him furiously without replying, and he saw her looking apprehensively into his dilating eyes.

"And just in case he doesn't tell you," Harry went on, "I'll let you know that if it weren't for your saint of a father, I wouldn't be standing here without parents."

And before Katherine could reply, or Harry could put his foot in it any more, he turned and stormed off to his dormitory, leaving Katherine standing silently in the dark corridor.

**oOoOo**

"Three, two, one, go!" Madam Hooch shouted, and fourteen broomsticks rose into the air around her. Harry rushed straight to the top, leaving the other players behind. The match against Hufflepuff was in full swing, and Gryffindor were in control of the ball.

Harry's eyes strayed briefly towards the forest but he pulled his concentration beck to the game. Up here, it seemed, he could think more clearly then he had done in days, but now he wasn't sure if that was such a good thing. He found himself thinking about the elves, about V'Ardian, and about Mr Weasley and his bid for Minister.

That very morning the front page of the Daily Prophet had proclaimed that Mr Weasley had Dumbledore's backing, and he had grown even more popular. It seemed he had everything going for him. Of course, there were other contenders. Amos Diggory was another favourite, as was Falconio Parkinson. Harry wondered if Parkinson was a Death Eater, but realised that the Order would probably know if he was.

Harry had to admit that there was a clear difference between this game and the last. He was much more clear headed and _happier_. He would have to see Katherine again, or Snape even, before he started getting sick again.

Harry let out a cheer as Gryffindor scored their second goal and scanned the pitch. Still no sign of the Snitch.

As Harry flew he couldn't help the niggling feeling that something was going very wrong, or was going to. Malfoy's warning had been much too dangerous to be ignored, yet what could he do? The teachers were convinced that Voldemort couldn't get into Hogwarts. And there was also the fact that Malfoy's last warning, no matter how vague it had been, had also been right.

Hufflepuff scored their first goal of the game and the stands roared in triumph. Harry smiled and searched the Gryffindor stands for Neville, whom he knew would be there somewhere. He would never forget what Neville had done for him in the Department of Mysteries.

Unable to find him, Harry returned his eyes to the ground. The Hufflepuff Seeker was tailing him and Harry rolled his eyes. It was a useless tactic, especially when Harry had a Firebolt.

Gryffindor scored again and Harry smiled in triumph. They were invincible, and it seemed all the training had paid off. And yet, there was still no sign of the Snitch. Oh well, the more points the better, Harry mused.

**oOoOo**

Half an hour later, Harry caught the Snitch. There had been no competition. He grinned in triumph as his team mates surrounded him and for the first time in a long while he felt truly happy.

**oOoOo**

If Harry was hoping for the euphoria of winning the game to last for long, Harry was sorely disappointed. It lasted until just after dinner when Ron hurried up to him.

"Harry, have you seen Ginny?"

"No," replied Harry cautiously. "Why?"

"I need to speak to her, but no one's seen her since before the Quidditch game."

Harry paled and the niggling feeling returned full force. He stood up abruptly.

"Were going to see McGonagall," he said.

"What- Harry, where are you going?"

"I'll explain on the way, Ron," Harry said.

Ron ran to catch up with him and they clambered out of the portrait hole and into the corridor, taking off for Professor McGonagall's office. As it turned out, harry didn't explain to Ron what he was suddenly rushing of madly for; he was too busy thinking. He hadn't seen Neville all day either. Come to think of it, he had missed him at the game as well. Neville always came down to congratulate Harry when they won.

He knocked sharply on Professor McGonagall's door but didn't wait for a reply. Bursting in he came face to face with a severe looking teacher, currently glaring at him for interrupting her so rudely.

"Yes, Potter?" she asked sternly, her mouth a thin line.

"Professor- I think something has happened to Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom."

Ron cast him a strange look, but Professor McGonagall's scowl became even more pronounced.

"What do you mean, Potter?" she sighed, laying down her quill.

"They're missing. We haven't seen either of them all day."

Surprisingly, Professor McGonagall seemed to believe them.

"Are you sure?" she asked urgently, standing up and taking a pinch of powder from a pot on her shelf.

Harry nodded.

"Very well. I will check into it," she said, in what was clearly a dismissal.

"Hang on a minute," cut in Ron, moving to Harry's side. "What's going on?"

Professor McGonagall fixed him with a piercing stare, though her expression softened slightly.

"Another student has also gone missing, Mr Weasley."

"Who?" Harry asked, but Professor McGonagall stepped into the fire and was gone.

**oOoOo**

"Wonder who the other person is?" Ron mumbled as they trudged resignedly up to Gryffindor tower. "Hope it's a Slytherin."

Harry tended to agree, though he had a horrible feeling that it was not. After all, it was too much of a coincidence. The disaster at the Ministry, Malfoy telling him that Voldemort was planning something at Hogwarts, and then two of the people who were also present at the Ministry were kidnapped. It was almost certain that the third person would be another of those that had followed him to rescue Sirius. Maybe Luna, he thought, because he had seen Hermione in the common room only a few hours ago.

He knew, deep down, that this was his fault. It was a trap, designed purely to lure Harry in to the snake's lair. Again, he knew he should have been more careful and paid more attention to Malfoy's warning, but how could he have predicted this? For Merlin's sake, Hogwarts was supposed to be safe. There had to have been someone on the inside… who?

**oOoOo**

At their Defence lesson that day, Snape was missing. This in itself was a small miracle, to exaggerate a little, but Katherine was also absent. Harry had to wonder if something had happened. Instead, their class was cancelled and they spent the free time catching up on homework. And in his mind, Harry was busily planning the little trip he was planning to take…

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Aaaggh! I hate short chapters! I apologise, but I felt I couldn't draw this out any longer. Well, maybe I just got bored and didn't want to. But I promise the next chapter is exciting! Thanks for reviewing- Wujjawoo. **

**Chapter 19: Of Visions and V'Ardian**


	19. Of Vision and V'Ardian

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 19**

**Of Visions and V'Ardian**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

By morning the news was all over Hogwarts. Three students were missing- two Gryffindors and, to Ron's enormous satisfaction, a Slytherin. Neville and Ginny had disappeared as though into thin air, causing a stir amongst the Gryffindors, and the wider magical community. Both were purebloods, but from families who openly despised the intended regime of Voldemort. To the uninformed public, this seemed enough of a reason to have warranted their kidnap, though Harry knew better.

With the news that his daughter had been kidnapped by the Dark Lord, Arthur Weasley's approval from the wizarding community rose by a significant amount. It seemed he had a good chance of winning the approaching election.

It was the disappearance of the relatively unknown Slytherin however, that had much of Hogwarts and much of the wizarding community wondering about the Dark Lord's motives. Katherine Winters, previously of a prestigious Italian school, had also been taken. Apparently parentless, little was known about her, save for the fact that she was supposedly a pureblood. Had the kidnapping been a mistake? Harry didn't think so.

**oOoOo**

Green eyes and memories flitted through Harry's dreams in a constant thrum of light and colour. His sleep was restless with his worry.

It had been one week since Ginny, Neville and Katherine had disappeared and the Order had yet to locate them. The voices began on this particular night.

_Listen to me, Harry Potter. _

The voice echoed faintly through his dreams, and his aching scar proved the identity of the speaker all too well.

_You know I have them. Come to me, and they will be freed. Come to me._

The voice persisted, but Harry didn't know where to go. He asked, but all that replied was a hideous laugh filled with cruelty. And then he woke.

**oOoOo**

Snape cornered Harry that day, as Harry had known would be inevitable.

Voldemort, Snape told him, had not called a meeting since that fateful day, and Snape was scared for his daughter. It was Harry's fault, of course, and he reminded Harry of this. He had warned Harry to stay away from her.

And still Harry wondered; why had Voldemort taken Katherine?

But for now Harry could not dwell on such thoughts, no matter how much they plagued him. Today he was travelling to Poseidon's Reach.

**oOoOo**

Poseidon's Reach was an out of the way little village perched on a tall cliff and sheltered from the merciless ocean breeze by a large outcrop o frock. When Harry arrived there it was dark, the air cold with thunder. The waves pounded ruthlessly against the limestone cliffs, the wind pitiless against the small community. It was a Dark place.

Harry pulled his hood further over his head, hiding his face. It wouldn't do for anyone to know his true identity. He fingered the staff that lay hidden in his pocket. Turning towards the cliff he thought he could sense a trace of magic.

He walked slowly toward the cliff and discovered a small pathway that he was sure had been invisible before. Thinking that it probably had, Harry started down it, pulling the staff from his pocket and enlarging it. The path widened slightly as it wound down the cliff face and Harry stuck close to the wall. As he descended, a feeling of oppression and excitement loomed over him. The earth felt as though it were trembling beneath his feet, pulsing with some enormous rhythm.

Harry rounded a small outcrop of rocks and the pathway ended almost too suddenly, and Harry balked dizzily at the churning waters that loomed before him. Stepping back cautiously from the edge he turned to his left to see the path continued sideways into the cliff face. With a sigh of relief, accompanied by no small amount of trepidation, Harry stepped into the dark crevice. The pulsing rhythm that Harry had felt outside in the open air was now a pounding, thumping beat, and Harry wondered just what he was getting himself into. The sound propagated through the air in waves, a physical presence against Harry's skin.

He was not afraid. In fact, a wild lurch of excitement was now coursing through him, as though some force from within the depths of this unknown place was calling out to his vampiric soul. Feeling far more confident now, Harry continued into the darkness and his eyes adjusted, bringing the walls into sharp focus. Upon the walls, runes and symbols were scrawled, crawling over his head, right down to the worn ones beneath his feet. They receded into the darkness ahead of him and Harry marvelled at the superb craftsmanship.

Suddenly however, the walls on either side of him dropped away and Harry felt fear constrict his throat as he nearly stumbled in surprise. He paused to regain his composure and looked around at the vast cavern of open air that now encompassed him. He could dimly see the walls of the cavern, far above him, but off to the side there was only blackness.

Harry had never been afraid of heights, but the reeling loftiness of the limestone bridge on which he was no perched made his heart pound in time with the beat of the far off drums. Far below him Harry could see the ocean, pooling into this grotto from some unknown crevice. It was still and silent, the only sound the subtle _whoosh_ of wind from some unknown source.

"Darkwater," Harry murmured, his hushed voice rising, echoing, and melding with the wind and water as though he had never uttered a sound. With a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill of the breeze that swirled about the cavern, Harry stepped forward once more, gladly reaching the opposite side of the cavern. On the other side of the bridge Harry rounded a corner and found himself at the top of a flight of limestone steps. At the bottom, firelight flickered through a stone archway and Harry knew his destination lay just ahead.

Ensuring that his hood was pulled low, Harry descended the steps and walked straight through the archway. This was Darkwater, the meeting place of the lamia, but what Harry saw when he passed underneath that archway could never be described by him as a simple meeting. The aura of the room was not evil, but it was deadly and threatening. From his slightly raised position near the door, Harry was witnessing a centuries old ritual, though he had yet to learn this. More than two hundred vampires filled the room before him, chanting or pounding their feet on the dirt floor.

Their faces were upraised, their hands out with their palms upturned. I the centre of the room stood what Harry thought might be the equivalent of an alter, a silver chalice resting atop it. A dark red liquid filled it to the brim, and Harry knew that it was blood.

And suddenly Harry was aware that someone was watching him. He looked to the opposite side of the circular room and his eyes locked with those of another.

Harry had never encountered true fear before, of that he was now certain. The dark eyes into which he now stared spoke of a wisdom and a power that was older then any other. Voldemort had not struck fear into Harry's heart as this man now did; Dumbledore had never radiated this sense of utter confidence and superiority as this vampiric king who sat atop his elegant throne.

He radiated a darkness that no dark wizard could ever hope to match and Harry sensed that it came naturally to him. When he spoke, the effect was terrifying because it told Harry of the power this man must hold. The room silenced instantly and the sudden noiselessness caused Harry's heart to skip a beat. He did not let it show. Instead, he raised his chin defiantly and stood tall, staff clasped in his left hand.

"Who dares to interrupt the most sacred of worships that has ever been performed?" came the quiet but strong voice of the man. His hair was as dark as his eyes and his skin was snow white. "Who dares to stand before us unannounced and presumes to be welcomed?"

The hall was silent as the king waited for an answer.

When Harry spoke he forced his voice to be as loud and strong as the voice of the king who had just addressed him. He would assume that this ancient king was not stupid- he would recognise the staff and he would recognise Harry as a member of his clan.

"My name is not important to the others in this room," Harry began icily, though his heart was pounding. "I seek counsel with you, My Lord," he continued, bowing his head slightly. The masses in the room below him glared up at him menacingly. The king considered him slowly, eyeing his hood with open mistrust.

"Few deny me the courtesy of extending their name," he stated.

"I was given no courtesy when a member of your clan Turned me," replied Harry coldly. "You may be the leader of this clan, but you are not mine. Courtesy will come when we can speak as equals."

The man now appraised Harry with growing respect on his face, though only a little. Harry wondered if many dared to stand up to him as he was now doing.

"You may approach," the king invited suddenly, and angry whispers broke out in the crowd below Harry as the slowly parted to form a straight path leading directly towards the king.

Harry took a step downwards.

_Into the lion's den_, he thought.

**oOoOo**

As Harry stopped before the king and bowed, he caught sight of a curious face out of the corner of his eye. As the king stood up and gestured for Harry to precede him into a room at the back of the hall, he spoke to the younger man.

"Isautier, you may accompany us."

Harry entered a grandly decorated room and the door shut behind the three of them with a _thump_, crushing the noises from beyond the door into oblivion, and he turned to face the king as he spoke.

"I take it you know my name," he stated, gesturing to a plush seat in front of an empty fireplace. The three settled into chairs as Harry answered.

"You are Lord Ilveer, king of the V'Ardian Clan."

"Aha," breathed Ilveer. "And my son, Isautier."

Harry nodded. He already knew that. Isautier sat arrogantly in a high-backed chair, calm and composed. Not at all like he had been on that night many months ago.

"And what is your name?" Isautier drawled in a rude voice, every bit the spoilt prince Harry could have expected. "It is rude not to give it."

"I fear if I give my name the consequences would not be good- for either of us."

Ilveer raised an elegant eyebrow.

"How so?"

Harry waved the question off with a roll of his hand.

"I do not wish to speak of that issue yet. Your question may very well be answered in our talk, but it is not what I came here to discuss, and my time is limited."

Isautier sneered. "You are in no position to designate anything," he said. Ilveer interrupted his son.

"On what matter do you seek my counsel?"

"I wish to know your position in this war that is between the wizards. Do you support Voldemort, or the Light?"

Ilvver laughed, his tone condescending.

"The Light, you call it? The Light kills just as much as the Dark, young man, it is the only way to keep the balance."

"That is not of issue," replied Harry hotly, though he knew Ilveer's words were partly true.

"Oh, but it is everything," Ilveer corrected. "Neither the Light nor the Dark have yet persuaded us to their side, though there will be a time, soon, when we will have to choose. We do not support the Dark, we do not condone their actions, but neither do we wish to openly declare allegiance to an opposing side."

"What would persuade you?" Harry asked quietly.

"There are many wizards who detest our kind. They would have us locked up and they would throw away the key if they had their chance. The Dark Lord would offer us open acceptance in return for our services. When the time comes, we will choose Voldemort, if only for the sake of our freedom. We do not care for the wizards."

"I care," replied Harry angrily. "I myself am a wizard. I would not deceive them all because of a few misguided idiots."

"Some misguided idiots are very powerful, young man."

"Voldemort will use you and discard you," Harry hissed.

Ilveer surveyed Harry critically.

"You feel very strongly about his. Why?"

"I have an interest," Harry said bluntly. "You could say that I am a major stakeholder in this war. My actions could make a great difference, and since I have been Turned I have seen an opportunity. I am keen to see it work to my advantage."

"I see," said Ilveer quietly, his gaze fixed on the empty fireplace. He appeared to be deep in thought. "Unfortunately, I cannot let my clan's livelihood depend on someone I do not even know the name of. I _am_ keen to know your name," he said pointedly, staring intently at the blackness under Harry's hood. "You are young, I hear it in your voice, yet you sound as though you have experienced many things. It makes me think…"

There was silence as the two vampires regarded Harry, one deep in thought and the other scowling. Harry prayed that Ilveer was not trying to determine his identity, though that seemed the obvious action.

"When were you turned?" Ilveer asked abruptly.

Harry gave a cold smile and glanced at Isautier.

"I was bitten on the 31st of July last year."

Isautiers arrogant expression slipped from his face in surprise and his composure left him. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the arms of his chair tighter. Ilveer on the other hand sat up straighter.

"What?" he hissed. "Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"Who?" he demanded, with such ferocity that Harry realized that something must be wrong. "Who Turned you?"

Harry glanced quickly at Isautier quickly before replying.

"My Lord, I do not know. There are so many, and I know none. I could not tell you."

"This is an atrocity!" spat Ilveer, standing abruptly. Isautier's strained face looked slightly relieved. "What do you know of vampiric law?" he asked Harry.

"Very little."

"It is ancient decree by the first ruler of this clan that no mortal may be Turned on certain days of the year. The reason these days were chosen has long since been lost, but they are believed to have sacred significance. Whoever broke this law would be exiled immediately."

Ilveer stopped his agitated pacing and returned to his seat.

"There are two types of vampires. There are those who are Turned, and there are Trueborn vampires. Those who are turned may become Trueborn, but they must undertake many rituals and tests before they achieve this status. Trueborns have the ability to decide whether or not their victim will turn, whereas the Turned do not. I think it may have been a newly Turned vampire who bit you."

Harry nodded, though he knew that Ilveer's solution was far from the truth.

"If a Trueborn vampire was desperate for blood is it possible that they might lose control of this ability?" Harry asked. Ilveer shrugged.

"It _is_ possible, though it happens rarely. There are few reasons why any vampire should be that desperate. Thos who are Turned are usually mortal, and need to drink extremely infrequently. Trueborn need to drink more, but like I have said, they have the option of whether to Turn a victim. However, you are different. You are mortal, but you are magical. Without blood your magic will wither and you will become drained very easily. You will Turn whoever you feed from."

Ilveer shook his head.

"That is another thing. I cannot imagine how one of my clan would manage to turn a wizard. We can always see the magical imprint of another creature if there is one to see. Whoever Turned you was either very inexperienced or very desperate."

**oOoOo**

Harry was escorted to the bridge by a surly looking teenage girl. She disappeared back into the darkness without a word and Harry was about to begin across the bridge when a hand grasped his elbow and pulled him back into the shadows.

"Isautier," Harry said coldly.

"Harry Potter. Why did you lie?"

"Would it have helped if I had told the truth?"

Isautier shook his head in shame.

"No, I suppose it would not have. Thankyou."

Harry inclined his head. Isautier, Prince of V'Ardian. He would be a useful ally.

Harry was struck by a sudden thought.

"I am curious, Isautier. I have a question which you may be able to help me with."

"Yes?"

"The Minister, Garian Numair. He was reported murdered by vampires. Of whose clan were they?"

Isautier's eyes widened slightly and he stuttered in his reply.

"I cannot say. It was not- not our clan, of that I can assure you. My father is very firm in that regard. We will not participate in this war until we are forced to."

Harry nodded, pleased. Isautier was not lying.

"Good. I must leave now."

"Good luck," said Isautier, as Harry inclined his head and stepped back respectfully. He was nearly half way across the long bridge when Isautier's hesitant voice called out to him across the gaping chasm.

"Harry Potter. I do not know who killed the minister, but I know where he is keeping your friends."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: This chapter _was_ going to be longer, but this seemed like the right place to stop for a nice cliffy ;) Remember to review and you'll get another chapter! Thanks for those who continue to follow this story- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 20: Of Capture and Confinement **


	20. Of Capture and Confinement

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 20**

**Of Capture and Confinement**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Harry pulled the hood from his head as he hurried up the golden staircase to the headmaster's office. Unsure of how he would find Dumbledore, he was surprised to see him sitting as usual behind his desk, albeit looking distinctly weary. Snape sat in front of him, scowling at Harry's intrusion.

"Do you have _no_ manners, Potter?" he sneered. Harry ignored him and looked instead to Dumbledore, but Snape was not finished.

"Potter, where on earth have you been?" he asked, eyeing Harry's cloak suspiciously. "You foolish boy! You have been out of school grounds!" Harry glared at Snape and spoke to Dumbledore.

"Sir, I know where Voldemort's keeping them!" Harry burst out hurriedly. Their reactions were not at all what Harry had expected they would be. Snape's scowl deepened absurdly, while Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his hand over his weary face.

"As do we, Harry," Dumbledore replied quietly, not quite meeting Harry's eyes. Harry stopped still.

"What?" he asked quietly.

"We know, Harry, where Voldemort is holding your two friends, and the other student." _The other student_, Harry thought. If only Dumbledore knew. "We have known, in fact, for some time."

"And you didn't tell me?" Harry asked. _Of course they didn't. They never told him anything._

"What would be the point, Harry? We know where they are, but we have absolutely no way of getting to them, and Voldemort hasn't asked for anything in return. We can do nothing until he does."

Harry swelled in anger, his eyes flashing.

"Are you stupid, or something?" he hissed. "He wants me! He's been calling me, telling me to come to him, and I haven't known where to go! They could have been out of there by now!"

Dumbledore looked alarmed.

"What about your Occlumency, Harry?" he asked. Harry grew angry now, and fought to keep himself under control.

"Occlumency won't help, Dumbledore, and it entirely irrelevant t this discussion. I know where they are! How can you sit here doing nothing?"

Dumbledore sighed again, but Harry didn't wait for his answer. They might not be able to get in, but Harry could. He knew he could.

Harry turned and stormed from the office, pulling the hood roughly back over his face. As soon as he was out of view of the two men, Harry disappeared.

**oOoOo**

The wind was unbearably hot, an unfamiliar experience to Harry, who had never travelled outside of the United Kingdom. He wondered vaguely why Voldemort would choose such and obscure place to set up a strong-hold, but then realised it was probably only temporary. At present, Harry was standing beneath a scantily developed tree, the dry leaves barely holding of the fiercely burning sun. Harry supposed he was somewhere on the African continent- the long distance had left him distinctly drained.

He stood beneath the tree on the edge of the desert, the flat gritty landscape rolling off into the distance, rimmed on the horizon by magnificent dunes. Harry squinted to avoid the glare from the sun, but it was nearly impossible. Heat radiated back of the sand and into Harry's face and he felt his cheeks and forehead burning.

At first glance, there appeared to be nothing of import in the area; in fact, Harry could see anything at all, save for the village behind him. It was a Muggle village, of that Harry was sure, and it looked as though it belonged to a nomadic tribe. A few tents lay scattered under the sparse undergrowth and a couple of camels lay tethered in the shadow of a well. Harry turned his gaze back to the desert, where he knew the entrance to Voldemort's lair lay. A brisk wind was rapidly getting stronger, bringing the sting of sand particles, and Harry wanted to be in before he got caught in a sand storm.

Breathing deeply, Harry relaxed as much as he could and closed his eyes. Instead of using his eyes, Harry tried to sense his surrounding with his magic. It was something he had seen Dumbledore do, but he wasn't sure if he was powerful enough to do it, and he wasn't even sure how it worked.

He waited a few seconds and gave up impatiently. Nothing. He hadn't been able to sense a thing. But suddenly, Harry got an urgent, niggling little feeling, as though he were missing something, and his eyes were drawn to an anonymous piece of ground almost directly in front of him. He stepped forwards slowly and suddenly the sand in front of him seemed to dissolve. A set of sand stone steps led down into the ground.

Thinking that he'd just about had enough of mysterious steps leading to dark mysterious caverns, Harry began the descent.

**oOoOo**

It was thankfully cool down here, not hot and unpleasant as it had been on the surface. Feeling sure that he must have set of some kind of ward when he'd arrived here- Dumbledore had said no one had been able to get in- Harry hurried as far into the labyrinth of cool corridors as he could. But somehow, everything felt wrong. He regretted immediately not conferring with Dumbledore more- specifically, finding out where Dumbledore thought they were.

As soon as he thought that, and realised the lack of life in this underground maze, Harry realized that there was nobody here.

With a curse he entered through a doorway and was pleased to see that there _had_ been someone here not long ago, even if they weren't here now. The room in front of him was lit by what appeared to be a glowing stone sitting on a small wooden, and it was the only source of light that Harry had yet seen, although all the halls appeared to be lit by something. Next to the stone, and looking quite out of place, was a scruffy brown boot.

It was so obviously a Portkey that Harry realised that they were meaning for him to grab a hold of it knowing just what it was. And that is exactly what he did.

**oOoOo**

With a tug and a swirl of light and sound, Harry stumbled to a halt in a dark dungeon. In front of him was a locked cell door. He rolled his eyes. Ordinarily, this may have made him curse and stamp around and mutter about how stupid he had been, but instead he closed his eyes, murmured an incantation, and appeared on the opposite side of the door with a smug grin.

He was at the end of a long corridor, lined on either side by gated cells. With a hint of trepidation at what he might find, Harry began forward. The only sound in the dark corridor was the quiet thud and echo of his feet on the stone floor and Harry shivered slightly at the dank aura the place held. Gripping his wand tightly, Harry sped up, nearing the end of the corridor. He slowed as he reached the end and peered around the corner. There was no one there.

He was about to turn into the next corridor, when he heard a sound behind him, like something scraping against stone. He stiffened and turned around slowly, scanning the empty corridor. The sound came again, quieter, and his heart leapt in his chest. Harry looked through the bars of the first cell door and swore. In the blink of an eye he appeared on the other side of the door and rushed over to the prone red head who hung suspended against the wall from chains.

"Ginny?" he whispered, cupping her cheek in his hand. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed at him groggily for a second.

"Harry? Oh, Merlin, I can't believe you came," she said, her voice hitching as she gave a slight sob.

Harry scanned the rest of the room and his gaze fell upon Neville who, unlike Ginny, was not restrained. Katherine hung from chains against a further wall.

"Ginny?" Harry said slowly, fear in his voice. "What's wrong with Neville?"

Ginny was silent, staring at the floor as a tear trickled down her cheek.

"Ginny?" Harry asked, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I need you to tell me what happened to Neville, please?"

Ginny sniffed.

"They said they wanted to see if he'd last longer than his parents," she whispered. Harry felt himself go cold. Neville lay curled up in the corner, rocking slightly. His eyes were wide and vacant, but he responded nevertheless to Harry's call.

"Neville?" Harry asked, moving quickly over to his friend. Harry placed a hand on Neville's shoulder and Neville flinched, turning his eyes to Harry's face. He didn't seem to recognise Harry.

"Neville… it is me, Harry."

"Harry?" Neville murmured, his voice a scratchy whisper.

Harry turned back to Ginny.

"Ginny, I'm going to get Neville out of here first. I'll be back for you soon."

"No, Harry, don't leave me!" sobbed Ginny. "Please don't leave me!"

Harry hurried back over to Ginny and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Please be quiet, Ginny. I don't want them to know I'm here."

Ginny's sobs subsided and Harry stood, relieved. He quickly strode over to Neville and grasped his upper arm firmly.

"Madam Pomfrey!" yelled Harry, as soon as they arrived in the hospital wing. Harry didn't wait to speak with the woman, though. As soon as he saw her approaching he disappeared. Apparating with two was much more draining, Harry thought, hoping he would be able to do it again. He grabbed Ginny and they too disappeared from the cold dungeon.

When Harry returned for the second time to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey was just reaching Neville, who lay curled up on the stone floor. Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened as she saw Harry.

"Mr Potter!" she gasped, as his hood fell back from his face.

"No time, Madam Pomfrey," gasped out Harry as he deposited Ginny on a bed. He nodded sharply at Neville. "Cruciatus Curse."

Harry didn't wait around to see her reaction. He reappeared in the dungeon at the same place he had left from and spun around to see Katherine, chained as Ginny had been to the wall. He rushed over to her and grabbed her arm. Her eyes opened when she felt his touch and Harry whispered a calming word, as much for himself as for her.

His last trip had left him feeling slightly dizzy. With a deep sigh at the knowledge that this was his last trip, Harry closed his eyes and took a second to summon the strength to apparate. With a final glance at Katherine, he murmured the incantation.

Nothing happened.

Harry tried again.

"Oh no," he said. He felt a change in the air that made his skin tingle and he rushed to the barred door, peering out into the corridor. Seeing no one he ran back to Katherine and started pulling at the cuffs around her wrists.

"Alohomora," he said, pointing his wand at the joint. It didn't work.

"Katherine!" Harry snapped, growing worried. Why wasn't his magic working? "Katherine!"

Katherine came to the second time Harry called her name, and he saw that she looked exhausted.

"Katherine," he said urgently, "I need you to tell me if these things lock with keys or with magic. Do you remember?"

"Harry? What? No," she shook her head. "I don't know."

Harry swore as he felt a tingle in his scar. He raised his wand to the point where the chain was joined to the wall.

"Reducto!"

He cursed again and slammed his fist into the wall.

"Harry, where are the others?" Katherine asked, suddenly panicking.

"They're back at Hogwarts already," Harry snapped. Damn it, it wasn't supposed to happen like this!

"How?" Katherine asked, looking perplexed at the still locked door.

"Not now!" Harry snapped, only pausing slightly to regret his attitude. "Look, they're coming; I need you to see if you can get your hands out of these cuffs."

Harry grabbed her arm above her wrist and began tugging, but it was no use. The cuffs were clamped firmly onto her arm. Giving up, Harry looked around despairingly at the bare cell. There was nothing there to help him. Cursing himself inwardly, even though he couldn't have done anything about it, Harry grabbed her elbow, attempting to apparate yet again.

He spun around with a roar when he was yet again prevented from apparating. Something was blocking him, he was sure of it.

"Frustrated, Potter?" came a voice, and Harry froze. He spun towards the door to see three Death Eaters there. Harry snarled, raising his wand, and the Death Eaters laughed.

"Your magic won't work here, Potter," the front one spat. His own wand was not in sight. Harry didn't say anything. After all, what was there to say? He was clearly cornered. The Death Eaters said nothing either, nor made any move to come closer. They appeared to be waiting for something. They didn't have to wait long.

"Come for a visit, Harry?" came the deep voice of Voldemort. The voice came from behind Harry again, and Harry spun to face it. It was extremely disconcerting having Voldemort in front of you and Death Eaters behind you. He quickly backed away from Voldemort, moving closer to the wall and to Katherine, his wand upraised.

Voldemort chuckled.

"I thought I felt something disrupt my wards. Who could it have been, I wondered. It took me a moment to realise the magic being used; it has been _so_ long since someone used it against me. Of course, once I realised, I knew it could only be you, young Harry. And I admit, I had not expected it, nor had I any precautions in place against it. Once again, you have surprised me."

"You're despicable," spat Harry, a frown marring his features. Voldemort only laughed.

"It is possible, Harry, that I am despicable, but it does not worry me. Whether I am despicable or not does not change the fact that I now have what I want. But, Harry, you have changed the topic. I am quite interested to know how you came by that particular spell. Indeed, I thought all records of that branch of magic were in my possession or destroyed."

"You think a lot of yourself, don't you Riddle?" asked Harry, pondering his next move.

"Harry, Harry… when will you learn? Would I be where I am today if I had no self esteem? Do you not see that power goes hand in hand with self respect?"

Harry considered his answer seriously.

"No, Tom," he said quietly. "I think you loath yourself. You loath what you are, you hate the part of you that you will never be rid of, and that is what fuels your power. Hate, for yourself and for everyone else who is happy with what they are."

Voledmort sneered in fury and raised his wand.

"Crucio," he spat, the word rolling of his tongue with such ease. Katherine screamed as the curse hurtled towards Harry and he fell to his knees with a grunt of pain. By the time Voldemort lifted the curse, Harry was on his hands and knees, panting. Voldemort knelt in front of him, lifting Harry's chin with a think white finger that made Harry's head burst with pain.

"Does Dumbledore know how much you have embraced your Slytherin side?" he asked softly, retrieving Harry's wand from his limp grasp. "You see, Harry, already you follow in my footsteps, in Salazar Slytherin's noble footsteps. Dumbledore underestimated me," he said, standing up. "He underestimates you as well, doesn't he, Harry?"

Harry glared up at Voldemort and struggled to his feet, leaning against the wall for support.

"How Dumbledore thinks of me does nothing to influence how I think about you," spat Harry. "The day I join you will never come."

"Oh, but I don't need you to join me, Harry. You see, I will soon have the services of another; someone who is much greater than either you or Dumbledore could ever be. He will stand by my side gladly, and together we will smite our enemies," spoke Voldemort, his voice descending to a whisper. Harry felt his blood run cold. He knew of whom Voldemort was speaking.

"You just have to find him first, don't you?" asked Harry spitefully, causing Voldemort to turn sharply to him.

"You know of whom I speak?"

"Of course I do," said Harry scornfully. "I've heard the prophecy. You don't think Dumbledore leaves me in the dark, do you?"

A little white lie couldn't hurt, thought Harry. Voldemort couldn't know just how little Harry really was told.

"Hmm," mused Voldemort, turning on the spot and pacing away from Harry. Abruptly he changed subjects. He turned back at the far wall and grinned maliciously at Harry, gesturing with a nod to Katherine.

"So, Harry, you haven't introduced me to your friend. Her name is Katherine, I believe." Harry tensed as Voldemort stepped nearer, coming to a stop in front of Katherine. "Is love as wonderful as they say it is, Harry? I would not know, I have never been in love. Tell me what it is like."

Harry scowled.

"I wouldn't now, Tom. Honestly, I've never talked to her and she's a Slytherin. Hangs around with Malfoy and co. I'd hardly be likely to go around with someone like that now, would I?"

"Liar!" hissed Voledmort, his eyes flashing. "Do you thing me an imbecile, Potter? I have spies, more than Dumbledore knows about. A faithful servant witnessed you together. Do you think me capable of making mistakes such as to kidnap the wrong person?"

Harry's heart pounded in his chest. Someone had seen them together? Who? No one had seen them together, except Snape and he wasn't likely to hand his own daughter over to- but there Harry's thoughts froze. There had been someone else, someone who was entirely too close to the Order for Harry's comfort. It was impossible, yet it all made sense…

"No," muttered Harry, his voice hoarse.

"Oh, yes," grinned Voldemort. "I know all about you two, you see. The pureblood orphan and the half-blood Gryffindor with no parents. Quite a lot in common, if you asked me." His eyes turned to Katherine, and he stroked a white finger down her cheek. "And she _is_ beautiful," he said quietly, causing Harry's blood to boil.

"You don't get to touch her," Harry ground out, balling his hands into fists. Voldemort chuckled softly.

"Always the protector, aren't you Harry. Tell me, what would you do if I took her? If I used her? If I-"

And suddenly Harry saw red. He launched himself towards Voldemort with no thought except for the knowledge that he needed to pound this pathetic excuse for a man into the ground before he said another word. His fist powered straight towards Voldemort's head, but he never made it. There was a flash of light and something cut deep into Harry's side, pushing him off balance. He slammed sideways into the wall, bruising his elbow. His head cracked against the wall and he knew no more.

**oOoOo**

When Harry came to, he was hanging from the wall in much the same manner as Katherine, and he found that it was highly uncomfortable. Merlin forbid he have to hang like this for any lengthy amount of time. He had a splitting headache and his elbow felt numb.

Katherine was chained to next to him, but on the adjoining wall. She was eyeing him expressionlessly, her face drawn and tired. Harry shook his head to clear it and looked at her.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking away.

"For what?" she asked, her voice flat.

Harry tried to shrug, but the movement strained his shoulders. Instead, he remained silent.

"How long have I been here?" he asked.

"I haven't been counting."

Harry sighed.  
"Did he touch you?" Harry asked her. "Or Ginny? Did any of them hurt you?"

Katherine looked away, embarrassed.

"No," she muttered.

Harry felt infinitely relieved. He still couldn't believe that the bastards had done that to Neville. Harry hoped he would be okay.

The silence was awkward as they hung there, waiting. There was nothing to do but wait. Harry tried to apparate once, but the ward was still firmly in place, as he had expected it would be. Harry felt weak. His arms were numb with pins and needles and his side ached. His shirt and robes felt wet against his skin and the area ached when he moved.

"What hit me?" Harry asked.

"A cutting spell. It was a pretty powerful one, too. It bled a lot," Katherine replied.

The two of them silenced as soon as they heard footsteps echoing out in the corridor. A moment later the door clanged open and a Death Eater strode quickly in.

"Dad," whispered Katherine tearfully.

"Snape?" asked Harry warily.

It was indeed Snape; he pulled a vial of potion and uncapped it, holding it to Katherine's mouth so that she could drink it.

"It numbs the pain," he explained softly, laying a hand on her cheek. "I can't be here long. We're working on getting you out."

The exchange was brief and uninformative, and Harry felt frustration boiling in his chest. Snape quickly moved over to Harry and uncorked another vial; as Harry swallowed it he could feel the pain receding slightly.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Snape turned back to Katherine, speaking to her so softly that Harry couldn't hear what he was saying. Harry felt suddenly embarrassed and turned away.

It was possibly only this that saved the three of them then. Harry, listening anywhere but the conversation going on next to him, heard two pairs of footsteps echoing lightly in the corridor. Unsure of what to do, he kicked out at Snape.

"Get your hands off her, you bastard!" he yelled.

Snape jumped back as though he had been burned, his head snapping towards the door just as the two Death Eaters entered.

One laughed.

"Now, now, Snape. Our master's expecting you back. We'll take it from here."

Snape grunted his assent and walked out of the room without a backward glance. The two Death Eaters waited in respectful silence as he left and took up a place near the door, conferring in bored whispers. Harry fell asleep, summoning images of haunting green eyes.

**oOoOo**

Harry awoke to a loud laugh and, looking blearily up at the door, could see two new Death Eaters entering the room to take over from the old ones. What time was it, he wondered? They would be looking for him by now, he thought. After all, the life of the Boy-Who-Lived was much more important than the lives of three less vital people. The search would have begun straight away. As much as Harry despised the thought that he was considered more important, it was a fact he could never escape, not until Voldemort was dead.

Harry's sigh attracted the two new Death Eaters, who sauntered over with soft laughter. Harry didn't recognise their voices.

"So, Potter," began one, coming to a stop in front of Harry. The other one stopped in front of Katherine. "How do you feel now?" he asked, grinning maliciously. He smirked and joined the other Death Eater in front of Katherine. One sighed.

"What d'you reckon?" he asked the other.

"He said no touching," replied the second one. The first one shrugged, disgruntled.

"He was talking about Potter. He's never cared before."

The second one shrugged, this time.

"Whatever."

"Come on, just a little fun," said the first one. The second one gave in.

"Just a little," he said. Harry's heart beat furiously in his chest. What were they going to do?

The first one reached out a hand and pulled away her robes from her chest.

"Hey!" snapped Harry. "What do you think you're doing?"

Harry's yell woke Katherine as one of the Death Eaters turned to him.

"Shut it, Potter," he snarled, brandishing his wand. When Katherine saw the Death Eater in front of her she kicked out, trying to push the man's hands away. He laughed and grabbed her feet, pushing them to one side and stepping closer to her. The other Death Eater turned back, clearly enjoying the whole spectacle. Suddenly, the first Death Eater lunged forward and grabbed Katherine by the back of the head, pressing his mouth cruelly against hers. Her muffled protests went unnoticed.

"Don't touch her!" yelled Harry, but they didn't listen. So Harry did the only thing he could. With a grunt that was half from effort and half from pain, Harry threw his lower body forward and kicked out at the Death Eaters. His feet caught the first one in the lower back and he lat go of Katherine in rage. He spun on Harry and raised his wand, but Harry's second go brought his other foot up to connect with his wand hand, cracking a bone in the man's hand and splintering his wand.

"Aah! The little bastard broke my wand!" he swore, stepping back out of Harry's reach. With a roar of rage he lunged at Harry, fists swinging wildly.

Harry tried to dodge the swing, but there was little room for his head to move. The clenched fist connected with the corner of his eye and he felt a sickening crack as his head snapped to the side and then connected with the wall. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach as something blunt, perhaps another fist, collided with it, before everything went black.

**oOoOo**

"They were quite well when I saw them," Snape said, reclining somewhat rigidly in the irritatingly comfortable chair that Dumbledore had supplied. He was trying so hard not to relax. "But I can't help but worry, Albus. I know what they do to the women they capture. My daughter-"

"Of course, Severus," interrupted Dumbledore. "I understand perfectly. However, I think that you needn't worry so much. I know that Harry will do everything he can to protect her. It is what he went there to do, is it not?"

Snape scowled.

"Forgive me if I do not place enough faith in the boy. He is a fool. He takes risks that are far too dangerous, and look where he is now."

"I believe they are calculated risks," replied Dumbledore. Snape sneered.

"That does not change the fact that he is now locked up in a cell with my daughter, Albus."

Dumbledore acknowledged his point with a nod.

"I think you will find things much easier for us now, however. Arthur Weasley has successfully attained the post of Minister. He will make every effort to aid our efforts."

"I have no doubt," replied Snape sourly. He looked on in worry as Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed his tired face with both hands. There was no longer any doubt about the great headmaster's health. He was tired and worn, his eyes dull. What would they do without him? When Dumbledore spoke again, his tone made Snape look up in surprise. Dumbledore was hesitant, worried, a way in which Snape had rarely seen him.

"Severus… I fear I have made a grave mistake. I have kept a secret… for far too long, I think. My time is running out, you know this as well as I do. And now, it may be too late to tell him…"

"Albus?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"When he returns, Severus. When Harry returns, then he shall know everything that I have done. He will hate me for it, but it had to be done. He will hate me for it."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Well, there it is. Finally, a longer chapter! I'm so pleased :) Thanks for all the reviews, guy, I hope you're enjoying the story. And now, I have a question for you. I am still trying to decide if Harry should die in the end. Yes? No? Tell me what you think!- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 21: Of Sacrifice and Signs**


	21. Of Sacrifices and Signs

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 21**

**Of Sacrifice and Signs**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

"It seems, Wormtail, that things are beginning to work in my favour. Despite the small issue of Arthur Weasley- which can easily be dealt with- Dumbledore's time has finally come. He will be gone soon, and I will be free to do as I wish."

"Of course, Master. You are the only one who-"

"Stop. Bring Potter and the girl. It's time I got what I brought them here for."

**oOoOo**

Far away, in an eccentric looking office, a scowling man jumped to his feet, clutching his left forearm.

"He is calling. I must go."

The weary old wizard nodded his head, sadness flickering across his face. It was unfair, he knew, that this man went through the things he did, and now it was fate, not the choices of himself or others, that was dealing him the bad luck. Severus Snape turned abruptly and hurried from the office, down through the maze of stairways and corridors, and out into the dark night.

When he reached the edge of the Hogwarts grounds and apparated to the designated meeting place, the sight that met his eyes did not bode well. His daughter stood in the centre of the circle of Death Eaters, gripping the arm of the boy whom Severus Snape detested more than any other. He looked terrible. Snape averted his gaze as he bowed before the Dark Lord, before taking his place in the circle, his gaze again fixing firmly upon the two teenagers.

Snape, over his worry, felt a twinge of pride as his daughter stood tall and gazed stubbornly at the wall of Death Eaters. He realized then that she wasn't holding Potter's arm for comfort; she was holding him up. In fact, the boy looked almost like he wouldn't be able to stand without help. His left eye was bloody and swollen, and one side of his robes was covered in blood. He stood with a slight stoop, as though it pained him to stand straight, and he held his right arm protectively against his side. His glamour was gone, and Snape could see that he was still sick and weak.

_Stupid boy_, he thought to himself. _He should never have let himself get so weak._ Nevertheless, Harry glared up at Voldemort defiantly, and finally the meeting began, with a single curse.

"_Crucio,"_ hissed Voldemort, and Snape perceived as much hate as he had ever heard in the Dark Lord's tone. Harry dropped to his knees with a small intake of breath, but his eyes did not leave Voldemort and he gave no other signs of pain. Despite himself, Snape was impressed, and he wondered if the boy had stood up to Voldemort like this on the other occasions he had faced him. Voldemort did not appreciate Harry's lack of submission.

Instead, his turned his wand toward Katherine, and Snape flinched ever so slightly as the curse struck. He knew then, with utter certainty, that if this continued for any longer, this would be the night that Voldemort learned of his true allegiance. Harry glared up at Voldemort, hate coursing through his veins, as Katherine screamed on the ground beside him.

"Stop," he ordered, gritting his teeth.

Feigning surprise, Voldemort complied, leaving Katherine panting on the ground.

"Stop?"

"Yes. I'll tell you the prophecy." Voldemort laughed, long and loud. He smiled down at Harry in amusement.

"You'll tell me the prophecy, will you?"

"Yes."

_No, no, no!_ Snape screamed in his mind. _You stupid boy!_

"Excellent," breathed Voldemort, his eyes flashing with perverse excitement.

"But first," interrupted Harry, his voice strong and sure, "first you let Katherine go."

Voldemort laughed, and the laugh rippled unpleasantly around the black circle. Snape forced a laugh from his throat, thought he thought the request naything but funny.

"Oh not, Harry," said Voldemort softly, "you are in no place to bargain. If I let your friend go, you might not tell me."

"I'll give you the Wizard's Oath." Voldemort laughed again, though not as heartily.

"You mean this?"

"Yes," said Harry firmly.

"I could just torture you and the girl until you tell me."

"I would kill you," said Harry, with such finality in his tone that Voldemort faltered briefly and Snape almost believed he would. That was before he remembered that Harry probably could kill Voldemort now. Vampires were violent by nature. Voldemort grinned, as though it were all a game.

"Very well, Harry. But let us not use the Wizard's Oath. Let us use something a little more…fun."

Voldemort approached Harry and placed his wand to Harry's forehead. When he spoke, Snape felt shivers crawl up his spine. The abnormal hissing sound was the incantation of parselmagic, and whispers rushed through the air when Harry replied in the same manner, a white glow creeping around the two wizards. There was a bright flash of light and suddenly Harry fell to the ground, clutching at his head in pain. Voldemort stood with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Lucius, I will leave it to you to return the girl. Go now."

"Of course, my Lord," murmured Malfoy, stepping forward. _No, _thought Snape, _he cannot take her._ He was about to step forward, to say something, when Harry struggled to his feet.

"No," he gasped. "No."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"No, Harry?"

"Let Snape take her," Harry gasped, as though he couldn't catch his breath. "Let Snape take her, and when he returns with proof that she is safe, and then I will tell you."

Snape silently thanked the powers that be that Potter had used his brains for once. Voldemort sneered; he had no choice but to comply.

"Very well," he snapped. "Snape, taker her now. Quickly."

"Yes, my Lord."

Snape darted forward and grasped Katherine's arm and with a snap, they Disapparated.

**oOoOo**

Harry stood silently, Voldemort before him and Death Eaters surrounding him. The air was heavy with animosity, but Harry's heart felt light. He no longer cared if Voldemort knew the prophecy; after all, what could it really do, and Katherine, Ginny, and Neville were safe. That was all that mattered. Snape reappeared with a _pop_ and strode over to Harry, his wand to his temple. He extracted a memory, as Harry had seen Dumbledore do on numerous occasions, and held his wand to Harry's temple. The memory became Harry's memory, and he saw an image of Katherine lying on a bed in the hospital wing.

Snape turned abruptly to Voldemort and bowed.

"My Lord, it is done."

"Return to your place," Voldemort snapped, his voice anxious but excited. "Now, Potter, you will tell me the prophecy."

"I can show you," said Harry.

And the battle of the minds began.

As Voldemort accepted Harry's offer of entering his mind, Snape saw the genius of it all, and wondered if the boy had been planning it all along. He wondered if it would work, and why Voldemort had not seen the danger yet. Voldemort approached Harry and entered his mind, and Snape watched in fascination as the two of them went rigid, staring into each others eyes.

Voldemort was the first to fall to his knees, but his head snapped up, his eyes remaining fixed on Harry's as though connected by an invisible force. Harry followed moments after, and Snape thought that it must have been the element of surprise that had given Harry the advantage. Snape watched as a drop of blood slid from Harry's scar, coming to rest on his cheek like a tear. It was a moment before Snape realised that the wards surrounding the meeting place had dropped, and the stillness of the air was oppressive.

Inside Harry's mind however, things were anything but still. He had tricked Voldemort, and he had done it successfully. But it had not gone as Harry had planned. He felt the wards drop, but when he tried to apparate, he found he couldn't. He panicked when he realized that he was stuck. He was in Voldemort's mind, and Voldemort was in his, and only one of them wanted to leave. And now, pain was starting to cloud Harry's mind. His scar was on fire because of the presence of Voldemort and the rest of his body felt the same. He had refused to tell the prophecy. He had disobeyed the rules of the Oath. And now he was paying for it.

As his body weakened form the pain, so did his mind, and Voldemort pulled free with a scream of pain, his voice mingling with Harry's as the trance was broken. Harry slumped to the ground and Voldemort backed away from him, disgust on his face.

"Master, what happened?" asked one of the Death Eaters whom Snape did not know. Voldemort smiled cruelly.

"He refused to tell me the prophecy. He broke the rules. The pain will only get worse now, until he tells me the prophecy."

Snape looked at Harry, writhing on the ground in pain, and wondered what the point of it all had been. The wards had dropped, but the boy had done nothing. Something must have been holding him back.

Voldemort knelt next to Harry, and grabbed Harry's face in his hands, forcing Harry to look at him.

"Tell me, Potter, and it will all go away," he said softly.

"The prophecy," gasped Harry, "It says…ugh." Harry gasped in pain. He could barely speak it was so great, but already, with those few words, he thought it might be decreasing.

"That's right, Harry," encouraged Voldemort. "Keep going."

"The prophecy says that…you will mark your equal. Your equal who was…born…when I was born. It says that one of us…must kill the other, because only we have that power," Harry panted, the pain slowly subsiding. "You have marked me, Tom, and I will kill you."

Voldemort's joyful laugh rang through the night as he stepped away from Harry.

"You see," he addressed his Death Eaters, his voice victorious, "my success is guaranteed. This boy, who is no more powerful than any other useless half-blood, has been prophesized as the only one who can defeat me! And here I stand, and I have defeated him!"

"You're a half-blood too, Riddle," yelled Harry, standing up. "Or don't you remember? Tom Marvolo Riddle, remember? Your Muggle father."

Voldemort spun to face Harry, his face a mask of rage.

"You dare," he hissed, "to associate me with that filthy creature? I have risen above what he was. My blood is the purest, the-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're the only living descendent of Salazar Slytherin and all that rubbish. Well, guess what, _Tom_, nobody _cares_. Salazar Slytherin lived centuries ago. He's been all but forgotten. You see, everyone else is just like you, too caught up in their own importance to worry about others. They don't care who you're related to!"

Voldemort sneered and turned away. He looked around at the circle of Death Eaters.

"Who would like to show this filthy excuse for a wizard what power can do?" he asked. A number of Death Eaters stepped forward, but it seemed that Voldemort had his mind set on one in particular.

"Severus Snape, you understand what power is, do you not? Like me, you have risen above the reputation of your Muggle father and made a name for yourself. Show Mr. Potter what we do with power."

Harry blinked in surprise. Snape was a half-blood? Of all the hypocritical, self-important-"

But Harry didn't have any more time to insult Snape as the Cruciatus Curse struck him. He dropped to his knees, in anger and pain. Snape lifted the curse and Voldemort made a sound of dissatisfaction.

"How disappointing, Severus. Come now, I know you to be much more creative than that. I trust you will not disappoint me again, Severus. Begin."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Well, not as long as I'd hoped, but that seemed to be the best place to stop. Good? Bad? Certainly not my favourite chapter, but reviews are appreciated. Another question for you- Should there be more romance? I'm pretty sure I'm going to put some more in but I want your opinion. Also- who can guess who Voldemort's servant is? The one who dobbed Katherine in to Voldemort?- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 22: Of Elves and Elections**


	22. Of Elves and Elections

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 22**

**Of Elves and Elections**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

The wizarding world was changing far quicker than anyone would have liked. The day that the Ministry of Magic announced to the general public the name of the new Minister brought about a major change that nobody could have foreseen. With Fudge out of office, things were finally running smoothly for the Order, hindered only by Dumbledore's increasing lack of attendance. In fact, the great wizard had not appeared in public for so long, that many feared him to be dead already.

When Dumbledore heard these rumours, he chuckled, saying, "Even Voldemort can't kill me that quickly." No one thought it was very funny. This prompted Dumbledore to make a public appearance. Maybe it wasn't as public as a lot of people would have hoped, but public enough to prove his very much aliveness, and in particular, to dissuade any victorious notions that Voldemort might be feeling. It wouldn't do to have him start massacring people because he had heard that his nemesis was on his death bed.

This not-so-public appearance involved nothing more than appearing in the Great Hall for dinner one evening, and the timing of this appearance couldn't have been any better, for reasons which will shortly be discussed. Of course, Dumbledore was having trouble walking, and this showed weakness, so Dumbledore, in what must have appeared to be a far from weak display of power, had hitched a ride with an invisible Fawkes and made a grand entrance in a ball of fire.

Dumbledore had spent the best part of the day in correspondence with various entities, some with good news and some with bad. One of the main issues, which had involved a _very_ long letter and much paper work, as well as much worry on Dumbledore's part, was the vampires. More specifically, the V'Ardian clan. Dumbledore had spoken with Snape, who denied Voldemort's knowledge of the subject of the prophecy, but it seemed suspicious that the clan had suddenly and openly declared their alliance with the Dark Lord. It seemed that the prophecy was well on its way to completion.

And then, of course, there was the issue of Harry Potter. The frenzied media had come howling at Dumbledore's door (metaphorically, of course), when news of Harry's disappearance got out, and it hadn't stopped in the week since it had happened. This was another reason that Dumbledore had finally decided to make an appearance. It wouldn't do if the leader of the Order and one of the greatest wizards alive, and the Boy-Who-Lived both appeared to have died.

Dumbledore had smartly skirted around the issue, claiming that Harry was simply in hiding for the time being, but it was a weak argument. Snape, failing to disclose all of the details of course, had informed Dumbledore of the events that occurred during his last sighting of Harry, which happened to be the same night that Katherine had been returned safely to Hogwarts. Harry Potter had not been since.

This stressed Dumbledore to no end, and he felt quite relieved when he finally sat down to Dinner at the head table that night- a small semblance of normality in an otherwise hectic world. It was just as the main meal had ended and desert was appearing on the table, that the convenience of Dumbledore's timing became known. The doors of the Great Hall flew open as though by their own will and Dumbledore could not have been more shocked at the nature of Hogwart's visitors. He leapt from his chair in an action he was sure he would not be capable were it not for the adrenaline now flooding his system, and bowed deeply.

"King Variel," he intoned, his voice strong. Elves were a strong race, valuing strength and spurning weakness. With tales of Dumbledore's failing health rife in the wizarding world, it would not do for such an important potential ally to have entered Hogwarts only to find the esteemed headmaster absent. The Elven King bowed low in returned, flanked by a second elf with a bow strung across his back. A party of eleven others stood silently and respectfully back. The students, and some teachers, gazed on open-mouthed.

"Albus Dumbledore. It is good to see you after so long. It has been…what? Thirty years?"

"I believe so, my Lord. To what do we owe the honour of this visit?"

Variel took a deep breath, as though what he were about to say cost him a great deal, and Dumbledore waited with increasing impatience.

"The Elves had made the decision to pledge their allegiance to you, Albus Dumbledore."

Dumbledore felt a surge of triumph and bowed deeply.

"This is a great honour, my Lord. May I suggest we discuss this further in my office?" King Variel nodded his agreeance, and Dumbledore proceeded to guide them to his office and away from the astonished stares of the Hogwarts population.

"My good friend, Illirian," said King Variel, gesturing to the silent man at his side, and behind him, "the Coucil."

"May I ask," said Dumbledore, once they were seated, "What has prompted you to leave your kingdom and extend the hand of peace?"

King Variel's answer was direct and disturbing.

"The lamia have once again turned to the Dark Lord. We have refused to join the Darkness and it will not be long before they respond unfavourably. You know, I am sure, of the history between the Elves and the lamia, and know that we could never join them."

Dumbledore nodded. He was about to speak again when Variel did.

"There is another matter of which I specifically wanted to talk with you of. When I said that the Elves have decided to pledge allegiance to you, the Light side, we mean specifically the Order of the Pheonix."

Dumbledore successfully contained his concern and shock.

"You know of the Order?"

"We know," the king replied simply and meaninglessly, much to Dumbledore's consternation.

"How?" he asked. Best to be polite when addressing the King of the Elves, he thought.

"A member came to us, asking for our help. At the time we refused them, but now…"

To say that Dumbledore was mad would be an understatement. He was absolutely furious. A member of the Order, _his_ Order, the Order of the Pheonix, had gone behind his back and tried to recruit Allies. This in itself was not such a bad thing, even though Dumbledore would have liked to have known about it. No, it was the fact that the person had acted foolishly. The move could have been dangerous. And then there was the question of _how_ they had passed the supposedly impenetrable barrier to the realm of the immortals.

"Who was it?" Dumbledore asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly. King Variel and Illirian traded glances, a move not missed by Dumbledore. They knew the importance of the answer they now gave.

"In reality, we do not know of they actually are a member, only that they had quite an extensive knowledge of the Order of the Pheonix. We assumed them to be a member. As to their name…all we can tell you is that they hold the title of a Lord of V'Ardian." They knew more of course, but they knew the danger that could come from revealing the Lord's true identity. They saw the glint of panic in Dumbledore's eyes as they revealed the identity of their visitor.

_Lord V'Ardian had knowledge of the Order of the Pheonix._

This certainly changed things. It meant that it was likely that at some point, the Order would be betrayed. Dumbledore wondered what that would cost them, how many lies would be taken in the process. He needed to find this person at all costs.

**oOoOo**

"Severus, what news do you have?" Severus sneered, which Dumbledore knew was never a good sign.

"The Dark Lord has moved him since the last meeting; we did not see him at this one."

"And you have no contact with him? No idea at all of where he is?"

"I would have told you, Albus, if I knew anything," hissed Snape. He was not in the mood to play word games with the old man.

"You are in the Inner Circle, Severus."

"I have talked to no one who knows where he is. The Dark Lord is keeping him hidden. I think he suspects that someone is a traitor."

"What does Tom say about Harry?"

"He gloats at his victory, and says we will all have the honour of watching him kill Harry. Soon."

**oOoOo**

"Where is he, Ron?" Hermione asked tearfully, laying her head on his shoulder.

"He'll come back, Hermione. He always does," replied Ron, but his voice held no conviction, no certainty.

Hermione sniffled louder.

"What if he dies, Ron?" Ron held in a sigh of sadness.

"He'll come back, Hermione. He will."

**oOoOo**

It would be one week before Severus Snape was called again, one week before the day that Lord Voldemort intended for Harry Potter to die. In that time, the light and dark forces were gathered, massing in preparation for the greatest battle the wizarding world would ever see. No one knew when the great battle would take place, but they could feel it in the air, a sense of foreboding falling upon them all, as though they were straddled on the edge of a precipice above a bottomless ravine, and one small tremble would send them tumbling over into oblivion.

And at the centre of all this preparation stood a special few, some well known, some not, but all played an important role in the events that were about to unfold. There was, of course, Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord who sought to rule the world. He hid himself behind his minions, rarely leaving the safety of his head quarters, cloistered in a pocket of wards and spells. With him was Harry Potter; the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, Lord V'Ardian. Yet for all of the latter title's renown, only one other save for Harry Potter himself knew his true identity. And Severus Snape would take that secret to his grave.

Harry Potter; hated by some, loved by many and a child of fate so dark that many would have spurned him had they known the truth. He carried a burden that few knew of or even cared to know of; as long as they were safe they didn't need to worry about his well being. Harry had long since accepted this fact. It was the way of the world. Severus Snape understood this only too well. Snape played a pivotal role in this war, one that would only become more important as time wore on. He was taciturn, rude and abrupt, and more often than not it was not a façade, as some thought it might be. After all, such a loyal spy pretending to be a Death Eater couldn't really be that mean, could they?

Few would understand what drove Snape until the war was over, and by then it would be too late to gain his trust.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: This was a strange chapter to write and I thought that it would be much, much longer. The next chapter is long. I promise. Thanks to all those who have reviewed already, and thankyou to all those who intend to review. Tell me if you think Dumbledore should die! I haven't really decided yet and I need some help. I'm going to start including some events from HPHBP, altered for my story line of course, and one of these may include the scene where Dumbledore dies. Your comments on this idea are greatly appreciated. Read on and enjoy- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 23: Of Return and Realisation**


	23. Of Return and Realisation

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 23**

**Of Return and Realisation**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Severus Snape apparated to his appointed place in the circle. It was dark, well on the way to midnight and Snape was annoyed. He had had an awful day, he was feeling unwell, and now he had been summoned. Life was rotten.

However, he knew that this was inevitable, and absolutely crucial to his future. The Potter boy looked as bad as Snape had ever seen him, tied upright to a pole in the centre of the circle. Cracks split the air as more Death Eaters arrived, taking their places in the circle. The burning was fading from Snape's own mark, a sure sign that tonight would not bring much trouble for the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord was happy.

The whispers of the cloaks stilled as Voldemort glanced around at the full circle, his eyes glowing red with some unknown desire or emotion. The wind was cold, the sky dark, and the threat of rain lingered over them creating a sense of unease. Snape's eyes flickered back to Harry, who had raised his head to look at Voldemort, though his face was weary and expressionless. Snape was sure that if the ropes had not been present, lashing him tightly, he would have fallen straight down. In all truth, Severus was surprised that the boy had lasted so long. He hadn't been easy on him, that night. He was sure the memory would haunt him forever, and it returned now as he stared at the boy. Snape sneered. It was another reason to hate the boy, because now he would stir memories of the things that Snape had done in his service to Voldemort.

Snape dreaded Potter's return to Hogwarts, if he ever did. When Dumbledore questioned Harry, asked him which Death Eater had done such a thing to him, his name would be the first on Harry's lips. Snape dragged his thoughts away from the future though, as Voldemort spoke.

"Welcome," he said, his voice little over a hiss, "to the death of Harry Potter."

The Death Eaters stirred, either in excitement or fear, and Snape tensed. The boy was useless; he had no wand, he could not defend himself. And after last time, well, Snape had heard about what had happened when Voldemort had returned the boy's wand and offered him a duel. Tonight, unless Snape intervened, the boy would die.

Voldemort advanced towards Harry, drawing his wand from his robes as he walked. Snape saw Harry's eyes were alert, following the motion, and then he realised why. It was Potter's wand, the one that was so like the Dark Lord's.

"That's mine," spat Harry, and Snape heard that his voice was strong. The boy certainly was brave. Foolish, but brave.

"Yes," murmured Voldemort, just loud enough that his voice reached the ears of the surrounding Death Eaters. "I have your wand. I must admit, although I can use it, it feels _so_ wrong. So…pure." Voldemort paced around Harry, who could not turn his head far enough to see, so instead he stared stonily ahead. It must have been intimidating, like turning your back on a predator when you had no defences. Courageous, once again.

Voldemort returned to face Harry again and laid a long white finger on his cheek. Harry sagged against the pole, groaning in pain. His arms thrashed behind his back, trying to get free. Voledmort chuckled, deep in his chest, and whispered something unheard in Harry's ear. Harry gasped out a particularly vulgar swear word at Voldemort, wrenching his head away and out of contact with Voldemort. Voldemort stood back, frowning. He turned to address his silent followers.

"You see? I, Lord Voldemort, am stronger than this piece of half-blood filth. Who dare claim that he was ever stronger than I, that he would have the power to vanquish me?" Voldemort whipped around, wand raised, and Snape tensed himself, ready to act. He needn't have tried however, as Voldemort flicked Harry's wand and the ropes fell, leaving Harry leaning dependently on the pole. After a few seconds his knees buckled and he slid to the floor, hitting the clay earth with a soft thump. His head lolled for a second before he raised it defiantly to look at Voldemort. Hie eyes flashed in unnoticed determination.

Voldemort knelt in front of him, placing his hand underneath Harry's chin to hold his head up.

"You thought you could beat me, foolish child," Voldemort said softly. He leaned even closer, whispering in Harry's ear. He thrust Harry's wand against his chest. "You should have listened when I asked you to join me. Your death would have been quick and painless. But no, you listened to Dumbledore, so now you will die, and then I will kill everyone you ever loved, just like I killed your parents."

Although Snape couldn't hear what Voldemort said to the boy, he saw Harry's face cloud with anger, and everyone heard what he said in reply.

"No, Tom," said Harry, and his trembling hand reached up to grasp the other end of his wand. His voice lowered, but Snape could still hear him. He watched in silent confusion as Harry reached up his other hand and laid it on Voldemort's face. Harry's own face flinched and his voice trembled with pain when he spoke again, his voice low and deadly. "You have marked me, Tom, and now, I mark you."

There was a violent explosion of light that forced Snape backwards a step and Voldemort yelled in pain. He saw Voldemort and Harry, kneeling in front of each other as though fused together, and he wondered what was happening. The other Death Eaters were mumbling in fear, wondering what to do.

**oOoOo**

Harry felt the magic flow through him, strengthening him to a level he hadn't felt in months. It wasn't his magic, but it would do. It was violent, dark, and ruthless, and it hurt. Harry tried to take his hand away, but it seemed glued to Voldemort's face, and he could smell burning skin. It was the second time Harry had done this, though this time it was intentional, and he suddenly understood something that had been plaguing him for months. There was no time to consider this new development however, as he felt Voldemort regaining control.

And then, while Voldemort was weak and Harry was strong, Harry hissed out in Parseltongue as loud as he could, putting everything he had behind the spell. There was a flash of light, Snape blinked, and Harry Potter was gone.

**oOoOo**

A mere five minutes later, Snape apparated to Hogsmeade and hurriedly entered the Hog's Head to use the fire. He stepped out into the Hogwarts infirmary, glancing sharply around. With a start he realised that Potter was not in sight, and he swore. He rushed out into the hall, brushing impatiently passed several students. He raised his wand and his Patronus erupted from it, heading towards the headmaster's office. Snape didn't wait. He turned and stormed off towards Gryffindor Tower. As he walked, he thought back over the events of the last ten minutes. He had no idea what had happened.

When the light had receded and the Death Eaters had seen only a stunned Voldemort on the ground, many had panicked. Snape sneered and yelled at them to shut up, and to their good fortune, they did. He had woken the Dark Lord from his place in the circle and done nothing else. When Voldemort rose, his face was burnt and scarred where Harry had grabbed it, and Snape could see the same mark beneath his left eye as the one that Draco Malfoy carried. He blinked in surprise before shielding his mind. The Dark Lord was in a temper.

Snape was sure that Voldemort had been mad enough then to kill all of them, and he was sure it was only shame that had prompted him to allow them to leave. Snape had done so without a second thought, not waiting around as Voldemort started throwing curses at the slower Death Eaters.

Snape snapped at the Fat Lady to open the portrait hole and she did so, raising her nose in the air and sniffing, looking highly miffed at being spoken to in such a tone. Snape sent her a glare and stepped in, the common room silencing immediately. He looked around and saw no signs of the hysteria that would surely be present if Harry Potter suddenly turned up half dead and stalked further in to the room. He glared at the students and abruptly head for the boy's dormitory, hoping that Potter might have gone there. He wasn't.

He swore and stormed back out into the common room, ignoring the questions that some of the braver students dared to throw at him. He turned to where he had seen Ron and Hermione near the fireplace and spoke to them.

"If Potter turns up here, one of you will escort him to the hospital wing. The other will come and get me. Immediately." He didn't pause to see their reactions and left the common room heading for the Great Hall almost at a run. Where the hell had Potter gone? Surely he would have returned to Hogwarts? Then again, Snape didn't really know exactly what Potter had done, only that he had bypassed the Dark Lord's apparition wards. He had assumed that he would be able to bypass the Hogwarts wards as well, but that might not have been the case. What if he had run out of energy? He could have been anywhere between Howarts and the meeting place, and that was a long way.

Snape rushed out of the Entrance hall and into the cold night. He hadn't realised that it was raining here. He scanned the grounds through the light rain and mist, but nothing moved. He wasn't there. Snape started to tense up, thinking that maybe he had been wrong. Maybe Potter hadn't escaped. He rushed back into the Entrance Hall, and ran into Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, where is Albus?" he asked impatiently. Her face was white.

"He is very sick, Severus. Poppy is seeing to him at the moment."

"Damn it!" yelled Snape, rounding on the transfiguration teacher. "Tell Poppy to return to the infirmary right away! Potter is here somewhere and he needs medical attention immediately!" Professor McGonagall's eyes widened in shock and she looked behind Snape.

"Where is he, Severus? Is he okay?"

"No, Minerva," Snape said harshly. "He is not. And I don't know exactly where-" Snape's words were cut off as the doors to the Entrance Hall creaked open ever so slightly. A second later it fell open more and Harry stumbled in, his eyes blank. Professor McGonagall raised a hand to her mouth.

"Dear God, Severus, what did they do to him?" she asked, rushing to his side to hold him up. He was covered in blood and filth, and Snape felt a stab of guilt. As Harry fell forward, unconscious, he muttered a levitation charm and lifted Harry into the air.

"Go and get Poppy, Minerva," he said. "I will take Potter to the hospital wing."

Professor McGonagall nodded, her face white, before hurrying off. Snape turned in the opposite direction, Harry floating ahead of him.

**oOoOo**

The first thing Harry did when he awoke was to panic. He wasn't panicking because he thought he was still in the cold cell, with Voldemort- far from it. He knew he was back at Hogwarts, remembered the events of then night before as clear as day. He looked down at his left arm and sighed in partial relief. His arms were covered with long sleeves, and hopefully they had been charmed onto him. He hoped no one had gotten a look at his arms. Once again the thought swam through his head. _Thrice marked, thrice linked, thrice bound. _He knew what it meant now, and he no longer held any hope that the prophecy was about him.

Harry sighed lightly. His eyes were shut against the glare from the window- the light hurt his eyes even though he can't have been in the cell for all that long. Another reason he kept his eyes closed was because of the presence at his side. People sat there, probably Ron and Hermione, and he didn't feel like talking just yet. They probably knew he was awake, and he knew he would have to face them soon, but he could always hope.

For once, luck came Harry's way as Madam Pomfrey's voice wafted over him.

"Out now, children. You can come back after dinner tonight and see Mr Potter." There were the usual complaints, but eventually they filed out, leaving Harry in peace and quiet. The curtains shut around his bed and he heard Madam Pomfrey rattling about near his bed. He cracked one eye open, the one that didn't hurt.

"Thanks," he murmured, surprised to find that his voice was scratchy and hoarse, his throat sore. He hadn't noticed that before.

"That's quite alright, Mr Potter," came Madam Pomfrey's brisk reply. "Although I didn't realise you were awake. How are you feeling?" She came bustling over, three potions in her arms.

"Absolute rubbish," Harry groaned. He tried to look to the side, but found that his limbs weren't obeying his commands. "Er, Madam Pomfrey, why can't I move?" Harry asked.

"The damage to your body was quite severe. I had you immobilised so that you didn't injure anything in your sleep." With a wave of her wand, the spell was removed, and Harry gave a sigh of pain as his body began to support itself.

"How long will I be in here," he asked with a grimace, taking the chance to look around. Madam Pomfrey gave him a stern look and passed him a vial of potion.

"You are far from recovered, young man. Professor Dumbledore will be coming to see you very soon, I expect, so you need your rest." Once again, Madam Pomfrey had successfully avoided his question.

"Now, you're on a pain relieving potion. When it wears of, just call me and I'll bring you another one."

"Okay, thankyou, Madam Pomfrey."

Harry gave a slight sigh as Madam Pomfrey left. Raising a hand to his head he felt a bandage covering his left eye. That wasn't good, thought Harry, not good at all. Most of his major injuries should be healed by now, and damage to an eye was a severe disadvantage.

Harry closed his eyes again. The light hurt. He was disturbed only minutes later as the curtains around his bed rustled, and someone came in. He assumed that it was Madam Pomfrey until they spoke.

"You look like crap, Potter," they said, the tone belying the animosity the words might usually have held. Harry's head whipped around.

"Malfoy."

"Glad you noticed," he said sarcastically, then lowered his voice. "Don't want Pomfrey to know I'm here. She'll kick me out for sure."

"How did you know I was here?" Harry croaked. Malfoy drew up a chair and sat beside Harry's bed.

"I have connections," he said simply and, Harry thought, somewhat arrogantly. He rolled his eyes.

"Connections that tell you things or connections that you hear things from?"

"They are connections, Potter and that is all there is to it," he replied, his evasive answer telling the truth anyway. "Besides, it's all over the castle anyway. Some students saw Snape bringing you up here." Harry vaguely remembered Snape and McGonagall from the night before. Malfoy went silent and Harry looked at him curiously.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked. Malfoy looked at him, his face expressionless. Suddenly though, he lunged forward and grabbed Harry's arm, ripping back the sleeve. Harry felt a surge of rage and Malfoy lurched backwards, hand clutching the scar on his face.

"What the hell was that for?" he swore, glaring at Harry. Harry held his arm closer to his side, pulling the sleeve back down.

"You tell no one," he snarled, knowing that Malfoy had seen it.

_Thrice marked, thrice linked, thrice bound._

Malfoy jerked his robes back into place irritably and smoothed his hair down.

"I had to know if it was true," he snarled in return, though his anger was only half-hearted.

"Screw you, Malfoy," sapt Harry, avoiding meeting his eyes. "Did your father tell you, or is this another thing from one of your useless contacts. Bloody hell, you couldn't even find out who the spy was at Hogwarts," he hissed, lowering his voice. Malfoy's eyes widened.

"There's a spy at Hogwarts? Who?" Harry ignored Malfoy's question.

"Why are you helping me, Malfoy? What is it you're really doing? I know there's something you're keeping from me, something you're doing. What is it?"

Malfoy paled slightly, but steadfastly denied Harry's claims. Harry sneered.

"You had better shape up, Malfoy, or our deal goes no further." malfoy stood up, fury coating his face.

"You know what? Screw you, Potter. You have no idea what it is costing me to do this." He took a few steps and pulled the curtain back, but turned back to Harry. "And never do that to me again," he said, referring to the pulse of magic that had gone through his scar before. "It makes you like him."

Malfoy looked out at the empty hospital word once and turned to Harry one more time before leaving.

"And don't worry. I won't tell anyone that he marked you."

**oOoOo**

When Malfoy left, Harry slowly raised his arm and pulled back the sleeve to see the ugly black mark that was now burned into his arm. It burned continuously, something his as sure a normal mark didn't do. He vaguely worried how many other people knew he had been marked. Did Snape know? The Dark Mark was black and burnt, and Harry quickly shoved it out of sight. He felt dirty, defiled, and the mark radiated a sense of evil that Harry felt he couldn't wash off him. He felt an overwhelming sense of frustration at the unfairness of it all, but he knew it couldn't be helped. There was nothing he could have done about it. It was prophesised, and now another piece of that same prophecy was complete. The first mark, the scar that the Dark Lord had marked him with so many years ago, was their first link. Then, only days ago, Voldemort had appeared, smirking in his cell.

"I want for them to see it, Harry, when I send your dead body back to them. I want them to see that I owned you."

It had hurt, getting the mark, but it had hurt Voldemort as well. A small consolation. And then, Harry had marked Voldemort, in the same way that he had marked Malfoy, and the circle was complete.

_Thrice marked, thrice linked, thrice bound. _

**oOoOo**

Dumbledore didn't come to see Harry that day, and when Harry asked Madam Pomfrey where he was, she said that he too was unwell, and that he would be done first thing the next morning. Vaguely wondering just how ill Dumbledore really was, Harry drifted off to sleep and didn't wake up until the next morning.

When he did wake up, it was with a stabbing pain behind his left eye and his body felt like it was on fire. With a slight groan he opened his eyes, and stifled another groan when he saw Dumbledore seated next to his bed, Snape standing behind him. Harry closed his eyes again. His head was pounding and evidently the pain-relieving potion had worn off.

"Harry, are you all right?" Dumbledore asked leaning over Harry.

"Of course he is, Albus," snapped Snape, glaring at Harry. "He's exaggerating, as usual."

Dumbledore leaned back to look at Snape.

"Come now, Severus, you can see the state of him. Be polite."

Snape scowled at the rebuke, but kept silent. Madam Pomfrey came bustling over with a tray and placed it on the table next to Harry's bed.

"Sit up now, Mr Potter," she said, helping him up. Harry struggled up against the pillows, trying not to move too much. He looked down at the food in front of him in disgust. He coughed, wincing slightly when it hurt his chest.

"You know what, Madam Pomfrey," he said. "I'm really not hungry."

Harry glanced at Snape, aware that Snape would understand.

"Mr Potter, you haven't eaten anything decent for more than two weeks. Just eat a little." Harry gave up.

"What's wrong with my eye?" he asked, feeling the heavy white bandage there. Madam Pomfrey eyed him in concern.

"Your eye socket has been shattered. You're very lucky you haven't lost your eye. It's having trouble healing because it's been there for at least a week. You might still lose your eye."

_Great_, thought Harry. _Just what I need. _

"What else is wrong with him, Poppy? What are all these scars from?" Dumbledore asked, gesturing at the multitude of scars that he could see on Harry's exposed skin. Madam Pomfrey made a grunt of discontent.

"Well, I assume it was from torture, Albus," she said, lowering her voice as though hoping Harry wouldn't hear her. His vampire ears picked up everything. "Numerous cutting hexes, bludgeoning curses, cruciatus curse, and many others. Absolutely despicable," she sniffed in disdain. Snape stirred ever so slightly at the end of Harry's bed. Dumbledore turned to Snape.

"Did you see this, Severus?" he asked.

"Some of it, yes."

"And you did nothing to stop it?"

"I did not risk my cover until it was absolutely necessary. If it had gone any further I would have stepped forward."

Dumbledore nodded and turned back to Harry.

"Who did this to you, Harry?" he asked in concern, a slight frown on his face.

"There were a few of them, at different times," said Harry. "I don't remember their names."

"Mr Potter," interrupted Madam Pomfrey, "surely you know who tortured you like this. These injuries, most of them came at the same time."

"I said I don't remember," Harry said icily. "And I doubt I'm going to."

**oOoOo**

Harry wasn't quite sure why he didn't tell Dumbledore the truth about Snape. Maybe it was because of some lingering fear of him, of what he would do to Harry if he revealed the truth. Maybe it was because he considered it, in some indirect way, to be a part of their deal. What happened between them, stayed between them. Maybe because he didn't want Katherine to find out that her father was the one who had damaged Harry so badly, even though, as far as Harry knew at least, she had yet to see him. Or maybe it was out of a sense of shame that he refrained from telling Dumbledore. He didn't want to admit that Snape had seen him so weak, had in fact been the one to cause that weakness.

Or maybe it was because, deep down, Harry honestly didn't want to hurt Snape any more than the man had already been hurt. He knew what it was like to lose family and friends, to be alone, to be despised and snubbed for something that you couldn't help any more than anyone else could. Because, against everything Harry had ever felt about Snape, and against what his mind was telling him, Harry felt a reluctant connection to the ever taciturn and bitter man.

Yes, maybe that was why he kept his silence.

**oOoOo**

Harry muddled his way through the endless stream of tearful cries of thanks and pity as he usually did when he finally decided to speak to his friends and their families. Mrs Weasley cried and hugged him quite hard, making him wince. She noticed his grimace of pain and cried some more, despairing over the actions of those who had harmed her Harry. Ginny thanked him almost voicelessly and faded in to the background while Neville's grandmother swooped down on Harry to thank him.

"You would never believe it, Mr Potter, but Neville is going to be fine. The doctor's said he was stronger than his parents. Imagine that!" She shook her head as though she could never believe that poor, kind, modest, bumbling Neville could ever have achieved such a feat and Harry smiled blandly, inwardly cursing the woman for being so thoughtless. He believed she cared about him, he really did, but she failed to grasp the simple fact that her grandson was much more than he seemed to be. Even if he was completely untalented, which Harry had come to understand that he was far from, Neville was one of the most decent people he had ever met. His grandmother should have been proud of him.

Harry refused to speak about what had happened to him. He didn't want to tell them that he truly believed it hadn't been that bad of an experience. It had been bad of course, but they acted as if he had died. Honestly, he was used to pain. Maybe not as much as he had gone through, but it certainly hadn't seemed too overwhelming at the time.

Most of all though, Harry didn't want to tell them that he had almost been welcoming the end. No one told them just how close he had come to death, in fact, Harry doubted anyone besides Snape and Voldemort knew. Harry wondered what would have happened, had he been unable to escape. Would he have let death take him, or would he have fought it? Would he have admitted it was his time, or would he have struggled to face another day of this life? He knew why he had tried to escape. He had a duty to fulfil. If it hadn't been such a large responsibility, Harry might have forgone the chance to fulfil the prophecy and let Voldemort end his life that day. Anything to escape the lack of anonymity and happiness his life seemed to have.

So, Harry Potter had lived to see another day, and he wondered if it was all worth it. It was easy to think depressing thoughts when he was feeling this way, but this emotion seemed to be a constant in his life and it was hard not to think that this was all his life would ever be. It would get better, he tried to convince himself, all the while wondering if he wanted to die or not. It would get better.

**oOoOo**

That night Snape brought Harry a glass vial filled with blood. Harry drank it hurriedly before the craving could overwhelm him and thrust that empty contained back at Snape in disgust.

"Thankyou," he said. Snape didn't answer and Harry hadn't expected him to. Feeling quite rejuvenated, though still in pain, Harry looked up to see the Potions Master still standing there, eyeing him in distaste. He thought about the words that might have come from any other person then.

_I want to thank you. For saving my daughter. For keeping my secret. For not telling everyone that I did it. _

But they did not come, as Harry had known they wouldn't. And now, Harry thought he might be beginning to understand why. Severus Snape no longer saw James Potter when he looked at Harry, at least not to the extent that he used to. He no longer hated James Potter, or Harry himself, but what Harry stood for. When Snape looked at Harry now, he could see all of the mistakes he had ever made. They were present in that scar in the middle of Harry's forehead, reminding him of how he had once been a loyal Death Eater, and how he had sold Lily and James Potter to Voldemort. They were present in the boys green eyes, who reminded him so much of Lily, who had once been so kind. They were present in the scars that now covered the boy's body, reminding him of all the times he had been forced to torture helpless human beings, wizard and Muggle. The horrors of his past were present in the boys face, the cold calculating look the only thing he could not associate with James Potter, who had made his school life a misery.

Harry Potter reminded Snape of everything that was wrong with his life, and that would never change. He realised he was staring, and Potter was staring back at him in the semi-darkness of the hospital ward.

"You're rather good at curses," said Harry. Snape left.

**oOoOo**

Harry was in the hospital wing for a week before he was allowed to leave. Katherine did not come and see him, though he had known she would not come with Ron and Hermione by his side at every possible chance. Harry willed himself to remember that Hermione and Ron were the closest friends he had ever had. He cared for them deeply.

It was hard to feel positive emotion. It felt like it didn't matter. Was this how Riddle had started out? Becoming cold and emotionless? So Harry stuck a smile on his face and prepared to face the reactions and questions of the students when he was let out of Madam Pomfrey's almost obsessive care.

It was early in the morning when she approached him and told him he could leave as soon as she had removed the bandage from his eye. She left him to get dressed and Harry made sure his sleeves were pulled right down, covering his scars. It was not only the Dark Mark or the mark of V'Ardian that Harry worried about. Snape had done a good job, and the proof lay right there on his skin. He didn't want people asking questions.

Madam Pomfrey came back in all her bustling efficiency with an armful of medical objects, some of which Harry could not identify. She slowly began unwinding the bandage from around his head, rolling the white material as she went. At last Harry felt the cool air touch his skin but he felt slightly stunned. Madam Pomfrey stood back and smiled at her work.

"Well, you've got a scar, but other than that… how does it feel?"

Harry smiled his biggest smile, jumping off of the bed.

"Great, Madam Pomfrey," he lied. "I can see perfectly."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: How was it? I liked writing this chapter so you had better like it. Please review, and thanks to those who have already done so. Thankyou to the reader who pointed out my error in chapter twelve; it has now been rectified. Also, I have decided that Dumbledore is going to die as he did in HPHBP. I have an idea as to how, and it will be in similar circumstances as the book, but I would like to hear your opinion. How do you think he should die?- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 24: Of Dreams and Deception**


	24. Of Dreams and Deception

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 24**

**Of Dreams and Deception**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

It was so early in the morning that Harry didn't meet anyone as he made his was slowly back to Gryffindor tower. He walked almost in a dream, slightly shocked at the reality of his situation. He had been hurt before, quite seriously, but everything had always been able to be fixed. It was hard to believe that he was blind in his left eye.

It was unusual seeing the world through only one eye. He bumped into things on his left more often, and everything seemed somehow unbalanced. He passed a bathroom and took a sudden detour, needing to see himself. Madam Pomfrey was right; there was a scar, and it was quite large. It cut through his eyebrow and curved around the outer edge of his eye, ending quite close to his bottom lashes. Harry thought that soon his body would be one massive scar.

He turned away from the mirror in hatred of what he saw and left the bathroom. He sat in front of the dying fire in the common room until he heard people rising and left for the Great Hall before anyone could see him.

**oOoOo**

"Albus, when are you going to tell him?"

"Soon, Severus, soon," sighed Dumbledore wearily. He seemed to pause and reconsider his answer. "Possibly tonight."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"You will find out in due course, I am sure."

Severus sneered in displeasure.

"I despise waiting. What is such a great secret?"

Dumbledore shook his head slowly.

"I cannot say, Severus," he said softly. "Lest the world come crashing down around our ears."

**oOoOo**

Harry was the first to enter the Great Hall for breakfast that morning and he felt decidedly conspicuous as he sat down by himself. After a few minutes other students started filtering in, pointing and whispering so loudly that Harry could hear them. He glared down at the table, his hand massaging the burning Dark Mark under the table.

As soon as the food appeared Harry began filling his plate, the scent of the bacon making him realise that he was ravenous. He ploughed in to the food, only noticing his friends entering the hall when Hermione's squeak of surprise alerted him to their presence. She bundled him up in a hug and Ron gave him a gruff pat on the back.

"All right, mate?"

"Yeah, Ron, I'm good," he said, giving him a small smile. Hermione raised her hand and traced the thin scar around his eye with a small 'oh' of surprise.

"Madam Pomfrey did a good job," she said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, smiling tightly. "Fantastic."

The Great Hall filled quickly after that, though nobody was eating much. Most of them were too busy staring at Harry. He looked around uneasily.

"Listen, guys, I'm going to head back to the dorm and get ready for classes. I'm not feeling too much like eating," he said.

"Do you need us to come with you, Harry?" asked Ron, pausing between mouthfuls. Harry shook his head as he stood.

"No. I just need to be alone right now," he said. Ron and Hermione nodded in understanding and Harry flashed them a bright smile to allay their fears before heading down the space between the table and the wall and out the door, many watching him as he went.

He walked quickly back to Gryffindor tower, thankful that there was no one to waylay him, and muttered the password to the Fat Lady. The portrait swung open and he was about to climb through when a voice came out of one of the secret passages near a tapestry.

"Harry. Wait."

Harry turned to face Katherine as she walked over to him, her gaze flitting up and down the deserted hallway. She appeared slightly nervous, but Harry had to admit that he would be too if he had been snatched right off of the Hogwarts grounds. When she noticed him staring at her she adopted a calm façade and he grinned slightly.

_Same old Katherine._

As he thought that, he thought of tonks, who had been anything but normal lately. He wasn't quite sure why he hadn't told Dumbledore about her, but he was hoping he was wrong. Oh, how he wished he were wrong.

"What do you want?" he asked as she came to a stop in front of him, her eyes travelling over the scars she could see. They lingered on his eye.

"Madam Pomfrey did a good job," she said, echoing Hermione's words.

"I suppose when you say it, you mean it," he said, "Because you saw how bad it was. It's a pity though, that appearances can be deceiving."

She raised an eyebrow in confusion and Harry gave her a small smile and lifted a hand to the slightly raised scar around his eye.

"Don't go around telling anyone I'm half-blind," he said. "It would put me at a disadvantage if my enemies knew I couldn't see them."

Katherine's mouth dropped open slightly in surprise and she looked at the ground. Did she feel guilty? Harry silently cursed the fact that she was a Snape. They hid their feelings so well.

"Is there somewhere more private we can talk?" she asked, looking up at him again. She looked down the hallway. "I don't really want anyone to see us together."

Harry nodded and gestured towards the common room.

"In there?" she asked, looking uncertain.

"Everyone's at breakfast." She shrugged and climbed in before Harry, a small smile gracing her lips when she saw the warm-coloured room.

"It's like it," she said, glancing around in what could nearly have been envy. But only nearly. If there was one thing Harry knew it was that Slytherins were proud and would never admit that another house had something better than them. Harry smiled and nodded at the stairs leading up to his dorm. Katherine followed him and he cast a strong ward at the bottom of the stairs.

He shut the door behind them and pulled his cloak from his trunk, putting it at the end of the bed before turning to face Katherine. She held another small vial of clear liquid in her hands.

"Well?" she asked. Harry felt something in his chest lurch in anticipation and he stepped forward in undisguised eagerness.

"Yes," he croaked, his voice catching slightly. He hadn't realised how badly he craved it. As soon as she drained the vial Harry strode forward and slipped his hand to her neck, bending down. Without hesitating he plunged his teeth into her neck and gave a slight moan as her blood flowed over his tongue. He began to suck, drinking as though his life depended on it. He slipped his other hand around her waist and she angled her head slightly so he had better access.

"Not to hard," she whispered softly and he slowed down, enjoying it more. The blood was to him as water was to a parched man; he felt life return to him as he drank his fill and he stopped almost reluctantly, even though he was full.

He licked the last droplets of blood from her neck, feeling the softness of her neck beneath his tongue. It raised an almost irresistible urge in him and instead of drawing back he placed a small kiss on her neck. He felt her breath catch, but she didn't pull back and he kissed her again, and again. He moved up to her jaw, smelling the sweet scent of her shampoo.

"Katherine," he murmured, his eyes closed in pleasure. He vaguely wondered if what he was feeling for her was real, or if it was his vampiric temperament surfacing, but he felt the fangs recede into his gums and he smiled when he felt the same. Katherine seemed to relax as he murmured her name and she took a small step forward, closing the distance between them. Harry raised his head to look down at her and his mouth quirked slightly as she stared back at him.

He removed his hand from her waist and smoothed her hair where he had disrupted it, bringing it to rest on jaw as he slowly lowered his lips to hers.

He paused slightly, feeling her warm breath on his cheek, and it was then that he heard, or rather felt, the wards at the bottom of the stairs disturbed. Closing his eyes in annoyance he reached over and grabbed blindly for the cloak on his bed. He pulled it over her, hiding her confused face from view a second before Ron and, to Harry's surprise, Neville, walked in.

Harry grinned widely.

"Neville!"

"Hi, Harry," said Neville, returning the smile after a second of hesitation. Ron looked at Harry strangely, confused at his change of mood.

"Feeling all right, Neville?" Harry asked, taking a small step away from Katherine. Neville looked at the ground shyly, his expression embarrassed.

"Yes. I have to thank you, Harry." He looked up. "You saved my life."

Harry's smile became slightly grim before brightening again.

"I'd do it again, Neville. You're a good friend."

Neville smiled sheepishly.

"You too, Harry."

Ron seemed unwilling to question Harry's sudden change in temperament and disrupt his good mood and for that Harry was thankful. Still, it was with great reluctance that Harry left the seemingly empty dormitory behind Ron and Neville and followed them down the stairs.

**oOoOo**

"Mr Potter, I am to escort you to the headmaster's office," Professor McGonagall told him, peering down at Harry sternly. Harry looked back at her in surprise.

"Dumbledore wants to see me?"

"I believe that is what I just said, Mr Potter, now if you will kindly follow me…"

Harry nodded in reply and stood, wondering what Dumbledore wanted to speak to him about now. With a sense of apprehension Harry followed McGonagall out of the common room and towards Dumbledore's office. Whatever it was, Harry had the feeling he wasn't going to like it. Suddenly Harry realised that they weren't heading towards Dumbledore's office.

"Er, Professor, where are we going?" he asked.

"We are getting Professor Snape. The headmaster has requested his presence."

Harry narrowed his eyes but didn't respond. They entered the dungeons and Professor McGonagall rapped smartly on the door of Snape's office. She didn't wait for a reply and opened the door, startling Snape who was bent intently over a cauldron of slightly smoking and translucent liquid. He frowned slightly at the interruption.

"Severus, Albus has requested for you to come and see him." His frown deepened.

"Now?"

"Right now," McGonagall confirmed. The frown did not leave Snape's face as he stood and turned off the heat beneath the cauldron.

"Very well."

As they walked, Harry thought that McGonagall and Snape must have had some kind of disagreement; there was clearly tension between the two, and no one talked. Snape swept along ahead of Harry, robes billowing even more so than usual and Harry wondered what he had been working on that had him this upset at leaving it.

Snape snapped out the password as they reached the gargoyle and Harry stepped straight on to the sliding golden elevator. The heavy sense of foreboding only increased as they rose higher.

**oOoOo**

To all outward appearances, Snape might have been irritated to be here, but inwardly he felt an inward sense of excitement and doom. Conflicting emotions, he knew, but what news could Dumbledore possibly have that was so bad? The prophecy was old news, to everyone except maybe Minerva. No, it wasn't about the prophecy. It was obvious that Potter didn't know. Snape sneered. Potter was hopeless at hiding his feelings when he thought no one was watching.

When the trio reached the top of the sliding staircase, they were surprised to see Dumbledore standing there waiting for them, albeit leaning heavily on a cane. He didn't greet Harry and his eyes were sombre.

"Severus, Minerva, please wait here for a moment. You will need to hear this also."

He turned around and shuffled quite quickly back into his office and sat behind his desk. With a slight nudge from Professor McGonagall, Harry stepped forward and approached the doorway into Dumbledore's office. As he reached the threshold he paused and his eyes scanned the office.

From behind, Snape saw Harry's body tense, his head turned to looked at something out of view. Then Harry spoke a name, his voice hoarse, and it broke slightly with emotion. He spoke the name, and Snape felt forgotten memories tugging at his consciousness, urging him to remember.

_Emily. _

The name that Potter had just spoken. It swirled through his mind, demanding acknowledgement, and he realised that magic was at work, though what he wasn't sure. Snape watched as Harry's gaze turned back to Dumbledore and an uncomfortable wave of magic swept across the room. It crackled silently in the air, but Snape could feel it, and it wasn't pleasant. He realised with a shiver that this was the Dark Lord's magic felt like; dark and overpowering. He heard Dumbledore's voice echo unusually sharply from within his office.

"Harry! Sit down and we will discuss this," he ordered, and his expression left no room for argument. Harry's gaze flickered once back to the unseen person (Snape assumed it was a person, a girl, given the name), before he answered Dumbledore.

"How could you do this?" he croaked, and the words seemed hard for him to get out.

Inside, Harry longed to scream, take things and destroy them as he had done at the end of his fifth year, but that was not a possibility. He felt like he was choking. He felt betrayed, worse than he had ever been before. It couldn't be possible, was the only thing he wanted to think, but upon seeing the girl sitting there in the office, vague memories had come rushing back into his head. Based on those alone, Harry could have, with some difficulty, dismissed the whole thing as a big joke, but accompanying those memories came almost overpowering emotions, and Harry had to grip the door frame for support.

"How could you do this?" he repeated when Dumbledore didn't answer.

"It was necessary, Harry. Please sit down and-"

"No," Harry spat, his tone vindictive. He spun to face the two teachers. "Did you know?" he asked fiercely. He seemed to be on the virge of exploding and the air crackled with unrestrained magic.

"Mr Potter, control yourself!" reproved Professor McGonagall in incredulity, though she too seemed to be struggling with something.

"Take a look," Harry said, gesturing back behind him. Dumbledore was standing, about to come out. He said a few words to the person who still sat out of sight and Professor McGonagall seemed to take this as her cue. Clearly something was wrong here, and she was determined to find a resolution. She stepped around Harry into the room and raised a hand to her mouth in surprise.

Harry seemed about to lose control and he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.

"Occlude your mind, Potter," Snape said. Whatever was happening they couldn't risk the Dark Lord finding out. Harry trembled and when he opened his eyes they were a crimson red, and his lips parted slightly to reveal elongated teeth.

"Potter!" Snape hissed, drawing his wand. Snape checked that Dumbledore and McGonagall were still busy. Harry snarled.

"I could do it, you know. I could go back in there finish him off. It would be so easy."

Snape felt his heart skip a beat and his face went pale. He could nearly believe the truth of those words. Nearly.

"Control yourself, Potter. Occlude your mind and calm down," he hissed quietly. "You do not want anyone finding out about this."

It was only the threat of this that forced Harry to calm down, though inside he was furious. His gaze shifted quickly to Snape's wand and back up to his face and he laughed quietly.

"What were you going to do, Snape?" he challenged, and Snape got the feeling that he was trying to avoid something. He nodded to Dumbledore's office.

"Go in there, Potter."

Harry stilled.

"I can't go in there," he insisted, his face fearful.

"Why not? What is in there, Potter?"

"My sister," he whispered.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: That turned out a heap differently from how I thought it was going to be. The next chapter was originally going to be the end of this chapter, but I was in a bad mood and decided that that would be a nice little cliff hanger. If you're lucky they'll be posted at the same time. If you're not, you'll have to wait a month until I get back from holidays ;) If I get lots of reviews between now and when I leave, I'll post it. Hope you enjoyed it- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 25: Of Secrets and Sisters**


	25. Of Secrets and Sisters

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 25**

**Of Secrets and Sisters**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

"You are lying," spat Snape. Of course he was lying.

"I assure you," Harry replied coldly, "that I am not lying. Should you wish to see the proof, she is sitting in Dumbledore's office."

Snape didn't want to believe it, but already the memories were becoming clearer, etching themselves once again into his mind.

"If your sister is in there, Potter, then why are you not by her side?" he sneered.

"I can't go in there," Harry said softly, and his tone caused Snape to rethink what he had been about to say.

"And why is that?"

Harry had difficulty explaining. He didn't want to talk to Snape about his. It was impossible for him to believe that he had a sister, and that she was sitting mere feet away in the other room. He had known as soon as he stepped into Dumbledore's office. He had taken one glance at her and seen the black hair and the green eyes and he had _known_. It was the face from his dreams; the one he had thought was his own. He had looked at her and felt his chest constrict in pain. Memories and emotions had rushed through him in a violent onslaught a second before his anger overcame him. Anger at Dumbledore for keeping this from him. What had driven Dumbledore to do such a thing?

Harry shook his head.

"I can't."

Snape watched as Harry struggled with himself for a moment before disappearing down the golden staircase. With a shake of his head Snape stepped across the threshold into Dumbledore's office and sought out the Potter girl. His first thought was that there was no way she could be anything _but_ a Potter. She looked exactly like Harry, only feminine.

"Merlin," Snape breathed, and Dumbledore turned to him.

"Where is Harry?" he questioned.

"He is gone."

Snape saw a flicker of despair pass across Dumbledore's eyes and it stayed.

"This was not how it was supposed to happen," Dumbledore said.

"How else did you expect it to happen, Albus?" McGonagall asked, her voice sharp. "You have hidden his sister from him for his whole life and suddenly reveal her identity like this?"

Dumbledore sighed and took a seat.

"I put a glamour on her before Harry came in. He should not have been able to recognise her."

"How did you do this, Albus?" Snape asked, glancing at the silent girl. "Now that I see her, I am remembering, but before…"

"It is an old charm- a variation of the Fidelius. It can be used to hide a person, from sight, from records…from memory. I have no idea how Harry could see her, nor how he knew her name. He was too young when I took her away to remember it."

Snape looked again at the girl to see that she was staring at him as though she recognised him. He sneered and turned back to Dumbledore.

"Where have you kept her all this time?"

When Dumbledore answered, his voice was calm and level.

"Italy."

"It-"

Snape blanched and stared again at the girl. He saw that Dumbledore had momentarily activated a glamour, the one he assumed she had carried for much of her life. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He shook his head in disbelief as the glamour fell to reveal the true face of Emily Potter, the girl he had known for nearly fifteen years as Emily De Mere.

"No," he murmured. "Emily."

"Severus?" she murmured, just as mystified as he. He realised now why her voice had always sounded so familiar. She had Lily's voice.

"Do you know her, Severus?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"What?" Snape asked, stunned. "Yes. Yes, I do."

And suddenly Snape understood just why Harry had been angry. He rounded on Dumbledore.

"You could have told _me_," he spat. "How could you do this?"

Snape turned to address the girl, who had been silent until now.

"Emily, I- I am sorry for this. I had no idea." Snape looked around somewhat helplessly, completely thrown. He summoned Dobby. "Emily, this is Dobby. He will take you to Gryffindor tower. If you would- Katherine is here. No one can know that she is my daughter."

Katherine nodded and moved to follow Dobby who, oblivious to the tension in the room, began chattering happily to Emily. The glamour was up again.

Snape watched her go and swung around to face Dumbledore.

"You old fool!" he hissed. "What have you done? You do realise that that boy is finding it increasingly difficult to trust you. If you aren't careful, you may very well drive him down the same path as Riddle."

Snape stopped and waited for Dumbledore's reply.

"It was a necessary evil, Severus. They are both marked, you realise. They carry the same scar."

Snape stopped him as he banged his fist down on the table.

"You have gone too far, Albus. You had no right to make Emily- to make both of them, in fact, think that they were alone. You will be lucky if Harry forgives you."

"It does not matter if Harry forgives me or not," Dumbledore said. "It was for their safety that I did it, and for the sake of the wizarding world. Some things had to be sacrificed."

"You sacrificed the truth, Albus."

"I only reveal the truth now because I fear that my time is near. I will not tell anyone else now. If Harry wishes to reveal this to anyone, then that is up to him."

Snape stood back and glared at Dumbledore in disdain.

"I cannot believe that you have done this, Albus. It was not right." With that, Snape turned and strode from the room. A moment later he heard Professor McGonagall murmur something to Dumbledore and hurry after Snape.

"Severus, how do you know her?" she asked. Snape stared down the spiralling staircase in deep thought.

"I have known her for many years as Emily De Mere, my daughter's closest friend. I must admit, had I known she was a Potter…"

They reached the bottom of the stairs and turned towards the Great Hall.

"He hid her right under your nose."

"Arguably the safest place possible."

"I find it hard to believe that he would do something like that to Harry."

"There are many things that are hard for me to believe, Minerva. This is not one of them."

**oOoOo**

Harry didn't return to the Gryffindor common room. He was at a total loss as to what he should do. How did one face the sister they had never known they had? What would he say? How should he act? Had she known about him? Had she known her true identity and not tried to seek him out? So many questions crowded in his mind and he fought to keep his temper.

His attention was focused so inwardly that he did not notice where his feet were taking him and he soon found himself in an obscure corridor quite close to Gryffindor tower. He headed back to the main staircase, thinking he might as well go to the kitchens and get something to eat, when a hand grasped his elbow and pulled him into an alcove. Harry found himself staring down at Katherine, and it was a moment before his head cleared of his other thoughts that he realised this.

"Hi," he said, his voice unenthusiastic. She looked up at him slightly doubtfully.

"I wanted to return this to you," she said, holding out his neatly folded invisibility cloak. He took the soft piece of fabric in his hands and wondered if Emily had anything of their mother's.

"Harry?" Katherine prompted, tilting his chin so that he looked at her. "What's wrong?"

Harry shook his head sadly.

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life like this," he said softly. He looked at her beseechingly in the semi-darkness. "Nobody understands what it's like." He was sure she didn't understand what he meant, but he wasn't sure he could put into words what he was feeling anyway.

"What happened?" she asked, equally softly. He didn't answer and instead she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him. Harry revelled in the warmth of her soft lips and kissed her back gently. He knew he was using this as a distraction now, and he knew that was wrong, but he needed it. He couldn't think about what had just happened. The cloak fell to the ground unheeded and he wrapped her in his arms, pulling her closer. This time when he kissed her, it wasn't because of the insatiable blood lust that had overpowered him the previous time, it was drawn out of an honest affection for her. He didn't know if it was love; he was quite sure he had never experienced true love, but he knew he felt differently about her than anyone else he had ever met. He felt he could trust her. He felt he could tell her anything, and he found that he _wanted_ to tell her things. When he realised that, he raised his head from hers and told her his secret.

"I just found out that I have a sister. A twin sister. Her name is Emily."

Katherine's mouth fell open in shock and she quickly pulled it shut in a dignified manner.

"Harry Potter doesn't have a sister," she said, as though they weren't talking about him.

"Dumbledore hid her. He used a spell, like the Fidelius charm. He hid her from me," he ended softly.

Katherine looked slightly lost for a second.

"Why would he do that?"

Harry shrugged, not quite sure himself.

"Maybe because he wasn't sure which one of us the prophecy referred to."

"Prophecy?"

"The prophecy that says that only I can kill Voldemort."

Katherine's eyes widened slightly.

"Well- if you've just found out that you have a sister, why are you here?"

Harry sighed and abruptly sat down on the low bench that sat beside them. He groaned and rested his forehead on his hand, running the other through his hair. He felt Katherine sit next to him and hand him the cloak.

"Go and see her, Harry. You have a sister. You should be happy."

Harry sighed deeply again. And gave a self-deprecating

"What's wrong with me? I've wished my family would come back from the dead my whole life, and now it's happened and I don't know what to do."

Katherine laid a hand on his shoulder before standing up.

"Come on, Harry," she said. She gripped his elbow and pulled him to his feet. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Yes, please," he said, and she laughed. "But wear the cloak."

Katherine nodded to his request and pulled it over her head.

"Okay," Harry breathed, and stepped out into the corridor. Katherine laid a hand softly on his back to let him know she was there and he headed up to Gryffindor tower.

**oOoOo**

Harry slowly stepped through the portrait hole and waited a second for Katherine to climb through before closing it. There was no one left in the common room, at this hour and Harry told Katherine to wait for a moment. He dashed up the stairs to his dormitory and ripped the Marauders Map out of his trunk. He hurried down the stairs and back to the common room as he activated the map. He held it out for Katherine to see.

"She's here," he whispered nervously. "She's in Gryffindor."

Harry slumped down in a chair by the fire, sinking into the puffy folds. His heart was pounding fiercely.

"Shall I go and get her?"

"Yes," said Harry. Katherine left and Harry sat staring into the dying embers of the fire. A few minutes went by and Katherine hadn't returned. He started to get worried and peered at the Marauders Map. Katherine and Emily were standing next to each other just outside the door of the girl's dorm. He stood and went to the bottom of the stairs and called up softly.

"Katherine?"

There was a soft laugh that was almost a sob and Katherine descended the stairs, Emily in tow. Emily stopped just before Harry and they stared at each other in silence. Harry's heart pounded in fear. He couldn't remember ever being this nervous. Harry felt an intense sorrow at all they had missed together and suddenly they both lunged forward and wrapped their arms around each other.

"I never knew, Harry," she sobbed, burrowing her face into his neck. "I never knew."

Harry felt a strange sensation welling up in his chest and felt a tear slide down his cheek. He laughed and hugged her harder, spinning around and smiling at Katherine. He stepped back from Emily and held her at arm's length to look at her.

"You look exactly like me," he marvelled. The green eyes that had haunted him in his dreams stared back at him now, taking in every aspect of him. Her hair was as black and unruly as his, though its length made it wavy rather than messy. He raised his hand and swept her hair aside where it had fallen over her forehead and found a scar, fainter than his, but still there.

"You have one too," he murmured.

"I can't believe I have a brother," she whispered, staring up at him, for he was slightly taller than she. She had a faint Italian accent. Harry laughed and she hugged him again, laughing with him. Harry had never been so happy.

The three of them sat in the common room for hours, well into the morning. He found out that the two of them had known each other for years, were best friends in fact. The knowledge that Snape knew his twin sister better than Harry did, and the fact that Dumbledore had hidden him in the same places as Snape's daughter raised his ire slightly, but nothing could dampen his good mood. Upon reflection, he wouldn't have had it any other way. At least she had been safe, and happy.

"So do you play Quidditch?" he asked her with a yawn.

She nodded eagerly.

"Chaser. I love it."

Katherine rolled her eyes.

"Emily is the best player I've ever seen," she said, shaking her head. "Impossible to beat."

Hours later, when the fire had burnt down and the house elves had finished cleaning, they parted ways to get a few hours sleep before breakfast. Just before Katherine left, he asked her if she could see Emily.

"I can, now that I know who she is, but before that she looked like the old Emily." She shook her head in confusion. "It's strange, realising that I didn't really know who you are or what you looked like, even though I knew you for years."

Emily laughed.

"It's strange not knowing who you are yourself," she countered, and Katherine had to agree. Harry gave Emily a hug and said goodbye to Katherine and when he fell asleep that night, it was to the first night without dreams that he had had in a long time.

**oOoOo**

"Mornin', Harry," grumbled Ron, pulling his robes blindly over his head. "How're you feeling?"

"Morning, Ron," Harry said brightly, already at the top of the stairs. "I'll see you at breakfast, okay?"

"Yeah, all right," agreed Ron, in no urge to hurry. When Harry entered the common room he found Hermione sitting in front of the fire with Lavender and Emily. He smiled at Hermione brightly and when he saw Emily his smile broadened. Hermione jumped up in excitement as he approached.

"Wow, you're in a good mood, Harry," she enthused. "Guess what? We've got a new student, come and meet her!"

Harry allowed himself to be dragged over and introduced.

"Harry, this is Emily De Mere; Emily, this is Harry Potter."

Harry wondered at her last name before realising that if Dumbledore had hidden her he wouldn't have given her real name. Emily laughed.

"Yes, we met last night, Hermione."

"Oh," said Hermione, deflating slightly. Harry grinned at Emily and punched Hermione lightly on the arm.

"Don't worry Hermione. I'm sure Ron will be absolutely thrilled to meet her." He turned to Emily. "Ready to go to breakfast?" he asked, and she stood up, smiling softly.

Harry saw Hermione hide a grin and Lavender giggled behind her hands. Harry rolled his eyes at Emily as they stepped through the portrait hole.

"They're going to think I fancy you now," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. Emily laughed.

"I thought you and Katherine…"

"Yeah, but no one knows. That's the thing about Hogwarts. Lots of inter-house rivalry. Gryffindors think Slytherins are evil and Slytherins hate Gryffindors, so it's a secret."

"Oh, okay," she said.

They met Katherine in the entrance hall and Harry leaned in for a kiss when no one was looking and grabbed her hand. Katherine laughed.

"I haven't seen you this happy _ever_, I don't think," she said, and withdrew her hand from his before they went into the Great Hall. They went opposite ways inside and Harry sat across from Emily at the Gryffindor table. He looked up to the head table to see Professor McGonagall smiling down at him softly, while Snape looked very unsure of himself.

"So you've met Snape then, have you?" he asked Emily, taking a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"Yes, I've met Severus before. I often stayed at their house during holidays. He's very nice," she said, and Harry nearly choked on his eggs.

"Severus?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow as though daring him to go any further.

"He hates me," Harry said, "and now that he knows that you're a Potter…"

"What's wrong with being a Potter?" Emily asked, frowning slightly.

"Er, well Snape and our father never really got along and, well, according to him, I'm just as bad."

Emily frowned at this and looked up at Snape, flashing him a quick smile. He looked away.

"He'll come around, I'm sure. We've always gotten along."

Harry raised an eyebrow doubtfully and shrugged noncommittally and they dropped the subject. The Great Hall filled quickly and soon they were surrounded by friends. Maybe it was because of his exceptionally good mood, or maybe it was because someone had spiked the pumpkin juice and made him impulsive, but Harry decided to tell Ron and Hermione at the first chance. After all, they were his best friends; they deserved to know. It was also because of this, that Harry ignored the hot stab of pain that went through his scar. He reflected later that he probably hadn't noticed the feeling of triumph that came with it because he was so happy himself.

He couldn't ignore the second one that came seconds later though, and the hot rush of hate and anger that came with it. His vision swam with blackness and flashes of a scene that he was familiar with, yet was not in front of him. Harry stood up abruptly and walked between the oblivious students to stand between the two centre tables and in front of the doors. He raised his wand, ignoring Ron and Hermione calling out to him, asking what he was doing. A second later there was a deafening roar and Harry yelled the incantation for the strongest shield he knew. The red shield sprang up in front of him, enveloping the entire front of the Great Hall. Seconds later a second shield, green this time, came from the other direction and hit Harry's with a jarring impact. A soon as it hit, pain seared through Harry's scar and he gritted his teeth in pain, recognising the slimy, oily feel of the green shield. It felt like Death, and he knew he had to keep it from touching the other students. Some students were screaming, but Harry blocked out the noise as he concentrated, trying to hold back the imposing green barrier. He was having trouble.

Other students and teachers were sending their own shield up to help Harry, but as soon as they touched the green barrier they cancelled, and slowly Harry started to lose ground. The screaming was deafening, and suddenly Harry heard, from the direction of the Slytherin table a shouted curse. He instinctively tried to move, but the curse hit him and he fell to his knees in pain, warm wet blood blooming at his side. The shield flickered and someone yelled another curse and the student who had cursed him fell to the ground, unconscious. Someone laid a hand on his shoulder but he didn't know who it was. They were whispering things into his ear but he couldn't hear them, and his head felt like it was about to burst. With a final jab of pain, his shield flickered and died and his wand flew from his hand, hitting the stone floor with what seemed like a deafening crack.

He lurched to his feet as the green shield rolled forwards, heading for the students in the Great Hall. Students were leaving through side doors, but they were small, and there were so many students. Harry turned desperately back to the oncoming wall of green and closed his eyes. He recalled every happy memory he had ever had. He recalled his feelings for Katherine. He recalled what he felt for Emily, whom he had met less than a day ago, and suddenly that was enough. He raised his hands and a white light began to surround them. He opened his eyes and they were bright red, and he knew that he must be using something of his vampiric powers. He stared forward in determination and suddenly the white light erupted from his body and spilled forth, enveloping the green shield. He remembered some vague reference to a vampire's ability to give life and realised that his shield was an exact opposing force to this barrier that was trying to take life.

The power was exhausting and Harry felt his limbs trembling but he stood fast, the white light pouring out of him in waves, buffeting the green barrier, and suddenly it began to retreat. Harry spread his magic thin across the face of the barrier, pushing ever bit of it back, but suddenly, as though the source of the barrier realised that they were losing, the barrier was changed. Instead of one large sheet of green the barrier morphed into a thing beam and all of it was focused in one place.

Harry couldn't change his magic quickly enough to meet the oncoming attack and the beam burst through the thin layer of magic and hit him in the chest before everything exploded in a blaze of white light. The green beam hit Harry in the chest and he was launched back off his feet, coming to rest metres away from where he had started. The Great Hall was silent for a second before teachers began pouring forward towards Harry, intent on helping him. Before they got to him though, he lifted off the ground and into the air.

The teachers froze and a student screamed when she saw his red eyes.

"It's He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" she screamed, and indeed it was. He started laughing, loudly and without fear and the students shrunk back from him. The teachers were hesitantly raising their wands, as though unsure of whether it was really him.  
Voldemort stopped laughing and stared around the Great Hall.

"Where is Dumbledore?" he asked, before grinning widely. "Is it true, then? Dumbledore is dying?"

He laughed again.

"Now nothing stands in my way," he announced to the silent students and teachers. "Dumbledore is dying and Harry Potter- Harry Potter is dead!"

Somewhere someone sobbed and Voldemort began to speak again, but suddenly he stopped, looking as though he had tried to suck in air and speak at the same time. It looked like he had choked. He wavered in the air slightly and a drop of blood trickled down his face from the scar. He let out a gasp of pain and his eyes flashed green for a second and suddenly Harry's body fell to the floor, hitting it with a thump. It was still for a second before he raised his head and looked up at the teachers and they saw that his eyes were normal again. He blinked in confusion, wondering why their wands were all pointed at him and stood up shakily. He stumbled slightly, but Ron ran up to him and Harry latched on to him, leaning heavily on him. Hermione and Emily rushed forward and grabbed him to, supporting him as they stood there.

"You all right, Harry?" Ron asked, slightly in awe. Harry nodded slowly and looked over to where the teachers were running over to them. The prefects and other teachers were hurrying the students out of the Hall.

"I was dead," he whispered to himself.

"What's that?" asked Ron, leaning closer to hear Harry. Harry didn't answer. Instead he closed his eyes as the fatigue overtook him.

**oOoOo**

Harry came to and found that he was moving. He was lying down, the ceiling bobbing along above his head. He rubbed a hand to his head in an attempt to ease his headache and it came away sticky with half-dried blood. He struggled to sit up but a hand held him down at his shoulder and he was too weak to resist.

"Stay still, Mr Potter," said a voice, which Harry recognised as being that of Madam Pomfrey.

A minute later he was gently lowered onto a bed and Madam Pomfrey forced a vial of warm potion down his throat and he passed out in a swirl of black light.

**oOoOo**

Harry was released from the infirmary a day later, and he thought that it must have been his shortest ever stay there. Madam Pomfrey seemed irritated that she couldn't find anything physically wrong with him and waved him off with a deep scowl on her face. It was breakfast time, but instead of going down to the Great Hall, Harry went to Gryffindor tower and retrieved the crystal ball from his trunk and headed off for the Room of Requirement.

He had decided late last night, as he laid awake thinking, that he had to do something about Dumbledore. Without Dumbledore's protection, Hogwarts would fall.

Harry sat cross-legged on a cushion on the floor cradling the crystal ball in his lap and closed his eyes. Letting his breath out he relaxed his muscles, turning his thoughts inwards. He had heard a few times of the healing powers of vampires and he was going to try it now. Snape had said that Dumbledore was dying from an injury he had received fighting Voldemort, which meant that there was something in Dumbledore that could be destroyed.

Harry cast his magic out into the room, pushing it out of himself as he had done with the shield. After creating the shield he felt he could understand magic better, and the way it worked. Now Harry could see the room in his mind, and identified himself sitting in the middle of it. He could feel his magic intertwined with the core of bright light that was the crystal ball. Harry thought of Dumbledore and his magic twirled up through the ceiling and a second later Harry was hovering over a sleeping Dumbledore. Dumbledore's magic, white and pure, coursed through his body, but it was dim, and an ugly black mark sat over his heart, think and solid. It was mutating Dumbledore's magic, turning it black and sordid with reaching black tendrils that spread through his physical body as well.

Without hesitation Harry plunged his magic into Dumbledore's body and the old man twitched slightly. Harry dove straight into the blackness and it was oily and slimy like the shield had been. It responded to something in Harry's magic and it was familiar to him. He shivered at the knowledge that he too held some of Voldemort's magic.

Slowly Harry closed his magic around the blackness and felt it resisting him, pushing out against the walls he sought to constrain it in. He squeezed harder, drawing ever part of the blackness into a tight ball and back into himself. He felt the magic flowing back into his own body where it joined his core, melding with it but not able to overcome it. Harry forced his own magic into every corner of Dumbledore's body and slowly withdrew to hover above him once more. Dumbledore's magic still seemed dim, but perhaps not as much as before.

A second later, Dumbledore opened his eyes and Harry saw that they were lively again, not old and worn as they had been all year. Strangely, he did not feel happy fro Dumbledore, but he felt a soaring triumph that he had defeated Voldemort and giving Hogwarts a chance. It was hard to feel happy that this man would have another chance to meddle in his life.

When he saw that Dumbledore was well, Harry pulled his magic back into his body, slightly surprised that it had been so easy. He began to feel that being a vampire would not be so bad after all. Slowly Harry opened his eyes and blinked at the brightness of the light in the room. He stood up, his legs slightly shaky, the crystal ball a heavy but welcome weight in his hand. A feeling of satisfaction shot through him and he smiled as he opened the door.

He returned the ball to his trunk and made his way down to the Great Hall in the hope of some bacon and eggs. The students went silent as he entered and he heard their whispers but ignored them. He sat between Emily and Hermione and served himself a plate of hash browns before answering their questions. He looked up at the bright blue of the ceiling and reflected that the whole castle felt better…more cheerful.

He heard Hermione gasp.

"Look! It's Dumbledore!" he said, staring up at the head table open-mouthed.

Harry hid a small grin and forced himself to be properly amazed. Dumbledore gave a small wave before sitting down in his place next to Professor McGonagall, who looked quite pale in her surprise. Harry saw Snape looking toward the Gryffindor table and when their eyes met, he nodded ever so slightly to Harry. Harry inclined his own head and Snape looked away.

His respect for Snape grew ever so slightly as he considered that it must have been a hard thing for Snape to acknowledge what Harry had done.

"Hermione," said Harry, remembering something. "What happened to the person that cursed me?"

"Oh," Hermione said, frowning darkly and shaking her head. "Some of the Aurors that turned up took him away. He was a seventh year Slytherin."

Harry looked over to the Slytherin table and saw Malfoy glaring around darkly, at the exuberance that the other houses were displaying, though Harry thought that he looked relieved. He made a mental not to talk to him later. Further down the table he caught Katherine's eye and smiled, before turning to talk to Emily.

Yes, he thought, life definitely felt like it was improving.

For now, anyway, another little voice added pessimistically.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Like it? Hate it? Review and tell me! I promised this before I left for holidays, so here it is. Possibly another one tomorrow, but that'll be the last one. Thanks for those who continue to follow this story and review. I'll explain more in the next chapter about Emily so if you're confused about any of that then don't worry. **

**Thanks again- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 26: Of Answers and the Afterlife**


	26. Of Answers and the Afterlife

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 26**

**Of Answers and the Afterlife**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

The weekend was a welcome break from homework and studying that Harry happily embraced. Things had returned to normal at Hogwarts, even for Harry after he had talked with Dumbledore. The headmaster had assured Harry that the charm he had placed on Emily was nearly identical to the Fidelius, and her identity would remain a secret unless either he or Emily should choose to willingly divulge it. Harry was glad for this, and he planned to tell Ron and Hermione if Emily agreed, though he wasn't sure when he would do that.

Hogsmeade visits were banned after the recent breach of the Hogwarts grounds, so now he and Emily were sitting in the shade of a large tree at the edge of the lake, talking. He was glad for the fine weather because it meant that he could escape out of the castle, where more and more people had taken to avoiding him if they saw him, and he hated seeing the fear and mistrust in their eyes.

Harry was finding it increasingly hard to care about that though. The teachers and his friends had all been commenting on how happy he seemed, and Harry had to agree. He was getting to know Emily and she him, and he enjoyed her company. She told him that she felt things in her scar too, but not to the extent he did. It happened more often now that she was closer to him. He told her about the prophecy and his adventures with Ron and Hermione and she told him about her life in Italy.

He envied the freedom she had had, but didn't tell her that. They went back up to his dorm and he showed her the pictures he had of their parents and he was astonished to see that in most of the photos there was now a second chubby little baby.

They stood up to go down to lunch and she hugged him fiercely.

"I'm so glad I met you, Harry," she said.

"Me too," he said, hugging her back.

"Oh, sorry," came a small voice from the staircase. Harry looked over to see Ron and Hermione standing in the doorway with shocked expressions on their faces.

Harry stepped back from Emily and motioned for Hermione and Ron to come in.

"It's all right. I need to tell you guys something anyway," he said, quite sure they were getting the wrong message.

"Oh, okay," smiled Hermione brightly, and dropped herself down on Ron's bed. Ron sat next to her and Harry and Emily sat across from them on Harry's bed.

"Well, what we wanted to tell you guys is…" Harry stopped, not quite sure how to continue. "Well, you might find it a bit hard to believe at first, but I can assure you that I'm not joking."

"Harry, it's okay, really," Hermione interrupted. Harry was quite sure she was getting the wrong end of the stick.

He grinned slightly.

"Okay, well, meet Emile Potter, my sister," Harry said, gesturing towards Emily. Ron's head shot around so fast that it crack and Hermione's jaw fell.

"Bloody hell!" swore Ron, pale beneath his freckles.

"Oh my," said Hermione. "Harry, she looks exactly like you but…Harry, you don't have a sister," she said, sounding stunned. Harry frowned.

"Well, I didn't know either till the other day. Dumbledore hid her and used some charm so that everyone forgot I was a twin."

"Bloody hell," repeated Ron, staring at Emily. "I thought you were gonna tell us you were dating her or something, Harry," he said, aghast.

In perfect contrast, Hermione's stunned face split into a wide grin.

"Harry, this is wonderful," she said, beaming. She frowned for a second. "I can't believe Dumbledore would do something like that."

Harry shrugged, frowning a little.

"Yeah, well, we all know he screws around with my life," he said. He refrained from telling them about Snape and Katherine, as he had taken an oath not to, but it didn't really matter. After a few more 'bloody hells' from Ron, and assurances that they wouldn't tell anyone (Harry didn't tell them that they wouldn't be able to say anything anyway), the four of them headed down to the common room. Hermione and Ron were making a much bigger attempt to get to know Emily now and Harry left them to it as they headed out of the portrait hole to go to lunch, telling them he'd meet them later.

He waited until they left and collected the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility cloak and found Katherine. She was in the Great Hall Eating lunch, so he headed down there and crept along behind the Slytherin table. Feeling mischievous and being in particular high spirits, Harry pulled out his wand a sent a curse at Malfoy, whose hair turned dark red with golden bows in it. Katherine, sitting across from him, looked up and nearly choked on her mouthful of water.

"What's wrong?" asked Malfoy in his arrogant tone as another Slytherin thumped Katherine on the back. Feeling slightly bad that Katherine had nearly choked, Harry sent another curse at Malfoy whose robes turned dark red as well. This made him feel in much better spirits.

Malfoy was still oblivious to his Gryffindor appearance, though other Slytherins were now looking at him strangely and students from the other houses were laughing in amusement. One of the Slytherins pointed out Malfoy's state of dress to him and Malfoy jumped up screaming and uttering quite rude obscenities. At the head table, Snape stood up and flicked his wand at Malfoy, who quickly returned to normal. Malfoy, red faced and fuming, snapped something under his breath at his friends and stormed out of the Great Hall amidst the raucous laughter of the other houses.

Some of the other Slytherins, apparently fearing for their own dignity, followed suit and eventually Katherine followed them out as well. Harry followed her out and slipped an arm around her waist. She stiffened slightly before relaxing and let him lead her to a disused classroom. He shut the door behind them and she spun out of her arms. She appeared mad, but he could see that she was refusing to laugh, however much she wanted to.

"You did that to Draco," she said accusingly as Harry pulled his cloak off. Harry grinned apologetically and her face relaxed into a grin. He stepped closer to her and pulled her into a kiss.

"Got any of that potion stuff on you?" he murmured in between kisses.

"Mhmm," she confirmed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Good," he muttered, before pulling her closer. He moved his attention from her lips down to her neck, nuzzling the soft skin behind her ear. When his hands began to get adventurous, she laughed and pushed him away, pulling a small vial from her pocket as she did so. She swallowed it quickly and he resumed kissing her, but he soon felt himself needing more and allowed his teeth to pierce her neck.

She drew in a sharp breath and her breathing quickened as he drew the blood from her, and he pulled her closer, letting her rest against him as he fed. Feeding from Katherine felt comfortable now and not wrong at all. He drank slowly this time, eyes shut, letting his tongue play across her neck. This time he felt it when she wanted him to stop and he withdrew, holding her until she regained her balance.

"That makes me dizzy," she remarked, leaning her head against his chest and closing her eyes. "And sleepy," she yawned. Harry laughed and wrapped his arms around her.

"Thankyou," he said. He angled his head to look at her neck and saw that the bite marks were gone already, completely healed.

Katherine sat down on the floor behind the desk and Harry sat next to her, drawing his knees up and taking her hand.

"I still can't believe that you've known my sister all these years," he murmured softly.

"You have no idea how surprised I was to go up there and see her. I didn't know what to think," Katherine said. "She's a lot like you, you know, quiet and serious."

Katherine paused a moment as though recalling something and laughed softly.

"She loves pulling pranks on people," she recalled. "She has the most evil sense of humour. Back at school in Italy, she used to drag me along and do something really sneaky and then act all innocent. Everyone loved her."

Harry smiled sadly, wishing he hadn't had to miss that. She sounded exactly like their father. He was about to reply when the door to the classroom burst open and slammed and something banged into one of the desks in the room. Harry froze and pulled the cloak over to him when he heard someone speak. Katherine stiffened as they realised that it was Snape.

Katherine started to rise but Harry held tightly to her hand to keep her down.

"It has been six months, Mister Malfoy, and you have yet to act. You know, I am sure, what I will be forced to do if you fail," Snape hissed. It sounded like he was blowing things apart with his wand. Malfoy's voice echoed in the quiet classroom loud, clear and arrogant as ever.

"Well I didn't think I needed to anymore! He was as good as dead and suddenly he comes back to life!"

Harry hoped they weren't talking about Dumbledore.

"Well do something!" Snape hissed. "I have no desire to prolong this charade any longer than necessary. If your mother had not asked me, I would not be doing this at all."

"I don't want to do it at all," shot back Malfoy.

"You have no choice, Draco. From all accounts you were quite eager to do this."

"Well, I wasn't going to tell him to stuff it, was I? You know very well he only asked me because of my father's mistake."

"Be that as it may, you have dragged me into this and jeopardize my position at Hogwarts. I will try to persuade the Dark Lord that he is more useful alive at this moment, but how I do not know."

"Yeah, well that's not the truth, is it?" Malfoy said.

"There is no room for excuses anymore, Draco. You should have thought more seriously before you took the Mark instead of rushing to please your father if you did not want to do things like this. This is what Death Eaters do. Had you gone to Dumbledore he would have protected you, but it is too late for that now. You have a deadline," Snape finished. "Make sure you meet it."

A second later the door opened and slammed again and there was silence. Malfoy swore out loud and there was a crash as he punched something. It seemed the opportunity to speak to him had come to Harry without him even trying.

"Stay here," he whispered, handing Katherine the cloak and standing up. He made it halfway across the classroom before Malfoy noticed him. His face paled.

"What are you doing here?" he spat.

"I heard everything, Malfoy," said Harry. "And now you are going to tell me the truth, otherwise our deal is off. Voldemort gave you a job to do at Hogwarts and you haven't done it yet. What is it?"

Malfoy backed up, sneering.

"Why the hell were you in here, Potter? Were you spying on me?" he asked.

Harry took a step closer to him.

"What do you have to do?" he asked levelly. Malfoy's face gave in to a look of defeat and he swung himself into a chair. The look seemed completely out of place on his face.

"I have to kill Dumbledore," he muttered, so quietly that Harry barely heard him.

"You're not serious?" sneered Harry.

"Get used to it, Potter. If I don't do it he'll kill me and my mother and I'm sorry to say that I value my life more than that old fool's."

Harry took a threatening step closer to Malfoy, who looked slightly wary now.

"I told you to be straight with me, Draco, when you first came to me. I can't help you if you won't tell me what's going on. Did you even have any idea that there was going to be an attack on Hogwarts?"

"I had no idea," Malfoy denied. "Even Snape didn't know, and you know how trusted he is."

Harry sneered.

"You're running out of chances, Malfoy," Harry said. "You should listen to Snape."

"All right," ground out Malfoy. "I get the idea. If I hear anything, I'll come straight to you."

"Does Snape know about us?"

"No."

"Good. Keep it that way," said Harry dismissively, and Malfoy stood up and headed out of the classroom.

"Oh, and Malfoy," called Harry to his back. "You look good in red."

Malfoy swung around and sneered, but if he thought Harry was the one that had done it he didn't say anything, and disappeared from sight.

Harry watched him until he was around the corner and felt Katherine come up beside him. She looked at him accusingly.

"What are you up to, Harry? And what is my father doing?"

Harry sighed and swung himself into the same chair that Malfoy had just vacated.

"I really think you would be better off not knowing," Harry said in a pleading voice. "You're in enough danger already."

"Tell me, Harry," she said, her voice growing stony. Harry stood up, angry.

"Really, Katherine. I don't want you involved. There's stuff that I haven't told anyone, and I don't plan to change that now, and it isn't just to do with Malfoy. When I sort things out with myself…maybe then, but until that time I have to be careful about what I say to people."

Katherine stepped back to him, her eyes glinting in anger, and Harry realised how alike she and Snape were.

"I wish you could trust me, Harry. What could be so bad that you can't tell anyone about it?"

Harry's good mood of a few minutes before had quickly dissipated and he was left with a bitter sinking feeling. He felt like events were speeding up, far out of his control and he didn't like that. And now another person wanted to know things, and Harry felt his grasp on the situation slipping. The more people he told, the more fragile his position became and he knew that their silence would not last forever.

"Please, Harry," Katherine pleaded and it was partly because of this out-of-character behaviour that he relented. "I need to know if it has something to do with my father, and I want to help _you_."

"There's nothing you can do to help me, Katherine," he said, but if you want to know that badly then I'll tell you. Just- don't tell your father anything, okay."

"All right," she agreed.

So Harry recounted the story of the prophecies- both of them, and about his visits to the eves and the vampires. He told her about the scar on his left arm and about healing Dumbledore, and how he needed to find Voldemort's Horcruxes to kill him, which was something he had learned from the elves. He told her everything but for fact that he had the Dark Mark, and he didn't tell her about Tonks.

He wasn't sure if telling her was a good or bad thing, but he felt safe in the knowledge that she was probably the safest person to tell. It also helped him realise something. He made a connection that he should have made a long time ago.

As he told her about the Horcruxes, he thought about Riddle's diary, which he thought might be one, and because of that he thought of the empty journal of Sirius' and Regulus' that lay hidden in his trunk upstairs. He was sure something so old must have had a use, and he was determined to find out. He thought maybe if he tried the same thing as he had done with Riddle's diary…maybe then it would work. He didn't tell Katherine about this either, and when they parted he went straight to Gryffindor tower to test his theory.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: I know it's short, but I'm going away today and I already posted the promised chapter. Should I make Snape and Katherine into loyal Death Eaters or keep them as they are? I think no, because that would be too mean, but I want your opinion. Well, hope you enjoyed it; remember to review and thanks to those who already have. Today is the 18th of December. The next chapter will be posted in a month, which will be the 18th of December (maybe a few days earlier if I'm keen). Cheers- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 27: Of Discoveries and Devastation**


	27. Of Discovery and Devastation

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 27**

**Of Discoveries and Devastation**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

After the revelation about Malfoy, Harry bid Katherine goodbye and hurried back to Gryffindor tower. It was mercifully empty and he went straight to his trunk and pulled out the journal that he hadn't looked at in months. The faded crimson cover beckoned him and Harry settled back on his bed with it. Reaching to a side table, Harry retrieved a quill and ink pot.

With only slight hesitation he dipped the quill into the black ink and touched it to the paper. Just as he had almost expected, and just as he had feared, the ink merged with the parchment and was absorbed. Setting the objects aside, Harry fetched his other book and, fixing the image of the journal firmly in mind, opened the cover. The picture inside was of a much newer looking journal, and at the top of the page was written a title. The _Death Journal_. Feeling concerned about what he was getting into, Harry read on. After a few lines, he got the gist of it. The Death journal was used to contact the dead. Feeling slightly dirty at touching something so dark, Harry shoved the journal back in his trunk and shut the lid. He closed the book again and this time thought of the Horcruxes that the elves had mentioned.

Surprisingly, there was little information about them and this worried Harry. He had to know what he was fighting. The book said that Horcruxes could be anything, animate or inanimate. With a sigh Harry closed his eyes and lay back, pondering the news that today had brought. He had a death journal, Voldemort had horcruxes, and Malfoy was on a mission. Dumbledore was better, he had a sister, and he was sure he was very much in like with Katherine. It balanced out.

**oOoOo**

Over the next few weeks, Harry had few dreams and Voldemort was not active, a blessed change from the months before. People still avoided him in the corridors, but even with the threat of the prophecy hanging over him, Harry was happy. He and Snape got on, more or less, but they didn't speak. Harry was fairly sure that was a good thing. Quidditch practice went blissfully well, a fact which Harry was glad of in light of the upcoming match against Slytherin. The DA was going extremely well, and he had new material prepared for them soon. About half the class had managed the shield spell against parseltongue spells, but Harry didn't want to keep them going on it any longer. He was getting bored of it; he was sure they were, and after all, what was the chance that Voldemort would come after each of them and use a parselmagic spell? He would just tell them to practice it in their own time.

In the weeks following Harry's escape from Voldemort, he grew steadily stronger, physically, mentally and emotionally. With regular feeds he was becoming much more lively and powerful. He felt the power he could now wield, the power Dumbledore had kept from him for much of his life. His grades showed as much, and he was quickly excelling. Everyone noticed the differences in him, but hardly anyone commented. He knew they feared him, and it was one of the few things Harry could complain about. The other was his eye. It was an incredible drawback, and it irritated him. He thought it was the only thing that he would not be able to make right in the future.

And now, with full use of his magic, Harry was rapidly becoming quite accomplished at Occlumency. He practiced Legilimency from the book, but didn't tell anyone. That evening, when the weather was starting to become chilly, Harry held a DA meeting. It was so much easier having everyone in one big group and he wondered what he would do next year if more people turned up. The first to arrive was Azi. Harry remembered Ron telling him that Azi's father was the Minister of magic in Africa, but apart from that Harry didn't really know much about him. They had never really talked, and Azi was a quiet type. Azi was hanging quietly around the door, and though he was a strong wizard, Harry thought he was slightly nervous.

"Hello, Azi," said Harry, walking up to him with a small smile. He stretched out his hand. "We've never really been introduced, have we? I suppose that's my fault and I guess I should apologise. I mean, it's halfway through the year and I thought it was about time I started to get to know you."

Harry grinned sheepishly but Azi smiled widely, white teeth luminous in his black face.

"Good to meet you, Harry," he said, his voice holding a slight accent. Harry shook his hand, relieved, but now also smiling broadly.

"So do you like the DA?" Harry asked. He had never really asked people what they thought of it, and realised it would be good for some outside input. Azi nodded solemnly.

"You teach very well. It is good because we learn different things to in class. It is helping me a lot." Harry nodded.

"We originally started it because we weren't learning _anything_ in class. Professor Snape is a much better teacher."

"Well, that is good to hear," said a snide voice from the doorway. Harry looked up to see Snape standing in the doorway.

"Professor? I was uh, just telling Azi why we started the DA. Umbridge, you know…"

"Yes, well, I was just looking for a student," he said, looking down his nose at Harry, who nodded. Snape turned to leave, but Harry held up a finger.

"Hold on a sec," he said, and pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket. He glanced over it for a few seconds before turning back to Snape.

"You should try the owlery," he advised. He wasn't quite sure what had provoked him to pull out the Marauder's Map in front of Azi, or Snape, for that matter, but it was too late now. Snape tilted his head slightly, eyes nodded.

"Hmm," he said, and turned on his heel. Harry grinned.

What is that?" asked Azi. Harry, who was glad that Snape had decided not to make a fuss said, "A little family keepsake," and tucked it back into his pocket. Azi seemed to accept this and glanced around the room.

"Want to help set up?" asked Harry, and Azi nodded. Hermione and Ron arrived not soon after, followed by a bunch of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. The Slytherins always turned up late. He absently rubbed his left arm, where the dark mark tingled, and was surprised when it flared briefly, and his scar twinged. He turned to see a bunch of Slytherins enter, Caydon Augustus in tow. Harry's eyes narrowed, but the feeling was already gone and he deemed it a coincidence.

"Okay," he said, when everyone was settled. "Today we're going to start something new," here there were a few mute cheers, "and this stuff's a bit more fun. We'll be learning some offensive spells that pass through your typical shield, and some more defensive spells. I'm thinking that we might have a bit of a duelling tournament next term."

This time the cheers were louder and Harry smiled as they got to work. It would be an interesting night.

**oOoOo**

As Harry cleaned up that night, he noticed that his invisibility cloak was missing from where he had left it on the shelf. He muttered an oath and then jumped as someone touched him from behind. He spun around to see Katherine, his cloak dangling from her outstretched hand.

"Looking for this? I didn't mean to make you upset, but I didn't really have an excuse to give the others for staying behind."

"That's all right," Harry smiled. "I'm glad you did. Your father was looking for you earlier. Did you see him?"

Katherine nodded.

"Yes, I did, and he had some very interesting questions about a strange piece of parchment."

Harry blanched a bit and she laughed.

"Don't worry. He said he'd always wondered how you managed to sneak around without getting caught, and considers this a challenge. He's looking forward to confiscating it."

This wasn't exactly what Harry wanted to hear, but he wasn't too worried.

"Last time he saw it all it did was insult him when he tried to read it. He was furious."

Katherine laughed and looked around at the empty room.

"You up for a walk."

"Definitely, Harry grinned, and grabbed his cloak and the map.

"Astronomy tower?"

"Sounds good," she said.

**oOoOo**

As Harry fell into bed that night, or rather that morning, he yawned deeply and fell asleep straight away. It was the first night in a long time in which he dreamed.

**oOoOo**

There was a flash of green light and a scream.

A man yelled and reached out in vain to his wife.

A man laughed and the body of the woman rose up in the air, twirling around.

A woman laughed and the man rose to join his wife.

A man hissed evilly and the man's body began to contort into different shapes.

His scar seared with pain and a presence invaded his mind.

Harry woke up and leaped out of bed, his heart beating in fear. It was not fear for himself, or fear of what he had soon, but fear for the man and the woman in the dream. Fear for Hermione's parents.

Nobody in his dormitory woke as Harry uttered a sharp hissing noise, and then there was nothing to hear but the sound of the gently falling rain.

**oOoOo**

When Harry arrived, he paused for a moment and concentrated deeply. He concentrated on the scar on his arm, and it began to burn sharply. And then he thought of Snape and it was as though he had tunnel vision. He was rushing along a black line, and at the end of it was the still form of a sleeping Snape. At the same moment that Harry saw Snape, the man himself jerked awake and clutched his arm in pain. Harry was quite sure he heard him utter a word that teachers definitely weren't allowed to say. Retracing his path backwards, but keeping the length open, Harry returned to the house in which he now stood and opened his eyes. Keeping the link through the scar open hurt, but he needed help. He prayed that Voldemort couldn't tell what he was doing.

Harry saw the dark mark as it was shot up into the sky, and he said a prayer of thanks that he could still hear screaming. It meant they were still alive. It took a few minutes, but suddenly Snape was there, apparating with a crack. Harry turned to greet him and could tell that Snape was surprised by what he was seeing.

"Potter, what in Merlin's name are you-"

"Not now," Harry said sharply, cutting him off. "There are Death Eaters attacking Hermione's parents. Get help."

Snape disappeared without even scowling at Harry, and again Harry's respect for him grew slightly. He sincerely hoped that Snape remembered to remove his mask before he apparated anywhere official. Taking a deep breath, Harry pulled his cloak over his face and moved silently through the house in the direction of the screams. He thought about Hermione, sleeping peacefully back at Hogwarts. He had to save them.

Harry was caught by surprise as he passed through the kitchen and found a Death Eater there already. The Death Eater let out an exclamation of surprise and raised his wand, but Harry was quicker. The Death Eater hit the floor in unconsciousness.

In his dream, Harry had seen three, and hoped that this one was one of them. He was not that lucky. As he passed through the hallway there was a whisper on his left and Harry felt a spell as it slashed through the hood of his cloak and hit his face. He spun around, cursing his bad eye and fired off a stunner. The Death Eater put up a block and Harry ran forward quickly. The Death Eater dropped his shield to curse Harry again, but Harry was almost on him.

"Expelliarmus!" yelled the Death Eater, and Harry's wand flew from his hand.

A split second later Harry grabbed the man's wand and forced it away. He used his vampiric strength and this time the Death Eater was not unconscious because of magic. Harry snapped the wand and dropped it, picked up his own and bound the man. He hoped that the others were as easy as this. He hoped help arrived soon. The screams had died down now, but he could hear someone sobbing and tightened his grip on his wand. In the distance he could hear police sirens coming there way.

Harry continued down the hall and peeked cautiously around a corner. Two Death Eaters stood over the bodies of Mr and Mrs Granger, taunting, while another stood back silently. Harry directed his wand at this Death Eater and cast a non-verbal stunner. The thump as he hit the ground caused the two others to turn around and Harry jumped out and made his presence known. Before they could turn around one of them hit the floor. The other was not so stupid, and Harry had a feeling he was in for a fight.

Harry's gaze flickered to the tear-stained face of Mrs Granger, and onto her husband, and he saw that they were fine.

"Well, well, well," murmured the Death Eater, and Harry caught the slippery voice of Lucius Malfoy. "What have we here?"

Harry raised his wand but did not reply.

"Mr Malfoy," replied Harry. "It concerns me that you are not in jail."

"So you know who I am," he said, a sneer in his voice, "but you have yet to tell me your name."

"There is no need for me to. I only need to wait until the Aurors arrive."

Malfoy laughed.

"Is that so?" he said, even as a crack sounded outside. He started slightly, losing his calm now. It appeared that he had not believed Harry. There was another crack, then two more, and then the sirens stopped. The front door was blasted of its hinges and Malfoy took the opportunity to curse Harry. He made a slashing movement with his wand, and Harry new no suitable shields. A gash appeared in his chest and he was momentarily winded. He glared at Malfoy and suddebnly Malfoy fell to his feet, gasping for breath, hands clutching at his throat. His wand clattered to the ground and Harry bound him in ropes. He wasn't quite sure what he had done, but the end result was all that mattered.

He looked out the window and saw that it was indeed Aurors that were arriving, and not more Death Eaters. He turned to the Grangers.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Mr Granger nodded slowly after a few seconds.

Harry nodded in reply.

"Good. There are people coming to help now."

With a last look at them, Harry dissapparated.

**oOoOo**

Harry fell into bed for the second time that morning with a huge yawn. He fell straight asleep.

**oOoOo**

Harry awoke the next morning and cleaned himself up as best he could. His chest was bruised and aching from the cut and there was a gash on his cheek, but it had already started healing. He pulled on his robes and started down the stairs, noting that Ron had already left. He found Ron in the common room with Ginny, holding onto a distraught Hermione.

"What's going on?" asked Harry, worried about why she was so upset. The last he had seen, the Grangers had been all right.

Hermione started speaking, but was overcome with a fresh wave of tears. Ron looked up, scowling.

"Her parents were attacked by Death Eaters last night," he said. "They left the Dark Mark over their house."

"Are they all right?" Harry asked, not having to try too hard to feign worry.

"What do you think?" snapped Ron, as Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes.

Harry took a step back, frowning.

"Well I don't know, Ron. How would I know what to think if I wasn't there?" Ron looked away and Harry was surprised when Hermione looked up at him tearfully.

"How could you not know, Harry?" she asked angrily. "You see things all the time, and you couldn't see this?"

Harry felt like he'd been punched in the stomach and he gaped at her in disbelief. Without a word he turned a left the common room. He headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, but before he could pass through the entrance hall he was accosted by Snape.

"With me, Potter," he said.

"I'm hungry. I'm going to breakfast." Harry continued walking, not in the mood to listen to Snape.

He was entirely unprepared for when Snape gripped his shoulder tightly. Harry stopped still.

"Take your hand _off_ me, Snape."

The hand did not move, and Harry was thankful there were no students around.

"What happened to your cheek, Mr Potter?"

"I ran into a bludger."

"Hmm." The hand turned Harry around steered him around the corner into the dungeons. Snape opened his office door and propelled Harry through it and roughly into a chair.

"Thankyou," said Harry, crossing his arms and staring at Snape levelly, which was hard, as Snape was still standing.

"Do not mock me, Potter. I wish to know how you contacted me last night."

"I'm not quite sure," said Harry truthfully. "You didn't tell anyone, did you?"

"I have given up trying to incriminate you for leaving school grounds, Potter. I can assure you that everybody is sufficiently bewildered about the strange person who turned up at the Granger's house last night and subdued five Death Eaters. Including Lucius Malfoy. His son is far from happy."

"Really?" Harry raised a disbelieving eyebrow. He sighed deeply, and then flinched slightly as a stab of pain went through his chest. Snape noticed, and sneered slightly.

"Lucius was very quick to point out that although you bested him, he did manage to injure you, quite severely by the looks of it."

"It didn't work as well as it should have. It's healing all ready."

"You didn't go to Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry didn't bother answering.

"What curse did he use?" asked Snape, eyeing Harry's chest.

"Some Dark Arts curse. I hadn't heard it before."

"Show me," said Snape.

Harry decided that this had gone far enough and jumped up.

"I'll be fine," he said.

"You have three choices," said Snape icily. "The first is that I force you to see Madam Pomfrey. The second is that you stay here and show me willingly, and the third is that I force you to stay here and charm your shirt off."

"Stuff you," said Harry. "I'd like to see you try." He turned and headed for a door, and it was a second before he realized that it was very cold down here. He looked down and saw his bare chest and spun around in anger. It took a second for him to remember to stick his hands behind his back.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he spat. He was acutely conscious of his bruised and purpled chest between them, at the same time as he was desperately hoping that Snape hadn't seen his arms.

"Show me your arm, Mr Potter," said Snape softly, his voice dangerous and leaving no room for discussion.

"Excuse me?" asked Harry. "Put my clothes back on!" he spat.

"_Show me_ your arm," Snape said slowly.

"You said you wanted to see my injury. Here it is. Are you happy?"

"Your arm, Mr Potter."

Harry felt himself growing angry, felt the thin veil of anger settling over him and changing him.

"Control your temper, Potter," sneered Snape. "It changes nothing."

"You have no right to do this to me. I have had it with you interfering in things that are none of your business."

"Hold out your arm, Mr Potter," or I will _force_ you to."

Seeing no alternative, Harry grudgingly extended his right arm to Snape's probing gaze.

"The other arm, Potter," said Snape softly. "I have seen this one."

"Screw you," spat Harry, and spun around. Clutching his left hand to his chest, Harry grabbed his shirt and robes and opened the door.

Only to come face to face with Malfoy, his fist raised to knock on the door.

"Potter? What the hell?"

Malfoy leaned around Harry to stare at Snape, bewildered. He looked back at Harry and down to his scar-riddled chest, and the giant gash that lay diagonally across it. Slowly understanding dawned on his face, and it morphed into a twisted expression of acceptance.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he asked Harry. "He told us he didn't know who it was, but it was you."

"I can't help what your father does, Malfoy. If he starts trouble that I choose to finish, then that's his problem."

Malfoy looked as though he were about to retort, but then he slowly nodded.

"Yes. Yes, that's true."

Then he grinned maliciously.

"He really did a job on you, didn't he? Someone else has too, by the look of it," he said, taking in the scars on Harry's chest. Self-consciously, Harry moved his shirt to cover his chest, and it was then that Snape acted. While Harry had been preoccupied with Malfoy, Snape grabbed his arm and pulled it from his side. Harry spun around fiercely, but stopped when he saw Snape's face. He looked over Harry's shoulder.

"Close the door, Draco."

Malfoy did as he was told, but instead of leaving the room he came around and stood next to Snape, still staring in horror at Harry's chest. Snape didn't object and neither did Harry. Snape just stood staring down at Harry's arm.

"When?" he asked.

Harry shrugged and retrieved his arm from Snape's grasp. The anger had left him and now he felt deflated, defeated. He knew he could have left any time he wanted, and maybe some part deep down in him wanted people to know.

"The day after Katherine left, I think. I can't be sure; I kind of lost track of time."

"You called me through this? Just like he does."

"It was the only way."

Snape nodded and stepped back.

"You should have told someone, you know."

"And what would that have achieved?" Harry shot back.

"Potter, do you realise, you could call the Death Eaters, just like you called me. I had no idea that it was you. It felt- it felt just like him."

"I have thought about it," Harry admitted, "but he'd probably notice."

"But if we had Aurors prepared, ready, waiting."

"An ambush? Could work. It hurts me though. It hurt enough just calling you."

Snape nodded and moved to a chair, gesturing for Harry and Malfoy to do the same.

"It was in- in the prophecy, you know," said Harry, hesitating as he glanced at Malfoy. He wasn't sure if he wanted to trust Draco entirely just yet.

"Indeed?" murmured Snape.

"In the parseltongue bit. It said 'thrice marked, thrice linked, thrice bound."

"Of course," breathed Snape. "The scar on your forehead, then the Dark Mark, and then, that night you escaped, you gave him your mark."

"Yes," Harry nodded. He glanced at Malfoy, and saw that the blonde was staring in rapt attention at Harry's right arm.

He looked up to meet Harry's gaze and his hand went to his face.

"You gave the same mark as me," he murmured. "And you gave it to him, as well. You marked us just like he marks his followers."

"That was different," said Harry tightly. "I knew what I was doing when I marked Voldemort."

Snape stood abruptly and moved over to a low shelf, removing several vials from it and a small rag.

"If you insist on not seeing Madam Pomfrey," he said, as though he had actually believed Harry really would. He moved Harry's arm and clothes away from his chest and paused for a moment, examining the scars. Harry saw an unfathomable look pass across his eyes, and knew what Snape was thinking about. Malfoy, too, could not take his eyes away from the riddle of old and new scars that adorned Harry's chest.

"Merlin, Potter, who did that to you?" Malfoy asked, as though he could not believe that even Death Eaters could be so cruel. Harry sent him a patronizing glance.

"Who do you think?" he asked condescendingly.

"Well, a Death Eater, I guess, but I don't know which one. Was it my father."

"No," said Harry curtly, turning his head away and drawing in a sharp breath as Snape touched that rag quite forcefully to his chest.

"Then who-"

"Listen, Malfoy, I really have no desire to have this conversation. What's done is done."

"Are you always so flippant about these kinds of things?" he drawled. "I mean, if I'd been tortured and kept in a cell for that long I'd-"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry, and this time when his eyes turned red it was because he had willed it.

Malfoy shut up straight away, his face somewhat pale.

"Jeez, Potter, no need to do that. And how can you do that, anyway? You look like him," said Malfoy from Harry's left.

"Thankyou for the glaring compliments, Malfoy," said Harry, rolling his eyes and wincing as Snape patted a potion onto the wound with the rag. It stung.

"This is healing amazingly fast," said Snape in wonder.

"Yes, that's been happening a lot lately. I think I may have died without my amazingly useful healing abilities."

"Are you sure you don't remember who-"

"You are curious, aren't you? You really should learn when to stop." He looked Malfoy in the eye, and then raised a hand to trace the scar around his dead eye. "This one…this one was given to me by Augustus Rookwood," said Harry. It was amazing how many people he had been able to identify as he thought back over the incidence in the hospital wing.

"I remember when that happened," said Malfoy. "They said you were crying like a baby."

"I never cry, Malfoy," said Harry.

"You cried that day you murdered my Aunt," said Draco softly.

Harry turned to face him.

"That is the exception," he growled. "Believe me, it will not happen again. You can be sure the remorse I held was not for her."

"My mother was very upset."

"So was Rookwood when I broke his wand," said Harry, changing the subject back to the original one.

"Ah yes," said Draco. "He was absolutely furious. Came out blundering on about how he hadn't even been talking to you and you kicked him in the back."

"Yes, well, he deserved it. So did the other one," said Harry, feeling that they were getting very close to a dangerous subject.

"What were they doing?" asked Malfoy, apparently missing the threatening looks that Harry was sending him.

"I really don't want to talk about this any more, Malfoy."

"Aw, Poor Potter," mocked Malfoy. "Did they hurt your feelings?"

"Drop it," said Harry in exasperation as Snape stood up. He looked down at Harry, a strange expression on his face. Malfoy seemed to be getting an idea of what had happened.

"They did something to Katherine, then?" he asked. "Odd for you to stick up for a Slytherin, Potter," said Malfoy.

"You will close your mouth, Mr Malfoy, right now." He turned to Harry. "Would it be prudent for me to pay Augustus Rookwood a visit, Mr Potter?" asked Snape.

"I think that would be a very good idea, sir," said Harry. "You of all people should have reason to. I think you would find it very satisfying. Send him my regards when you do."

"I will do that, Potter," said Snape quietly. Malfoy was looking extremely confused. As Snape turned away, Harry added one more thing.

"Tell him that I said thankyou."

Snape turned back in surprise.

"For what?"

"For only being smart enough to do fifty percent of the job."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Like it? Hate it? Tell me! Turned out heaps different from what I planned, but I think it was okay. Should Harry be an animagus? What should he be? Remember to review- Wujjawoo. **

**Chapter 28: Of Close Calls and Criminals**


	28. Of Close Calls and Criminals

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 28**

**Of Close Calls and Criminals**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

It was only as Harry was walking into breakfast that he realised had just united with Snape. He sat down next to Neville, away from Ron and Hermione.

"Slap me up the side of the head, will you," he said to Neville. Neville looked bewildered.

"Why would I do that, Harry? You saved my life."

Harry laughed.

"Thanks, Neville. I just think there might be something very wrong with me." He lowered his voice dramatically and leaned closer to Neville, who's face was anxious in anticipation of what he was sure was about to be a very serious announcement. "I just had a civil conversation with _Snape_."

"Eep," said Neville, who truly believed that this couldn't be good. He shook his head slowly.

"No, Harry," he said emphatically. "It's definitely Snape with the problem. I mean, you're nice to everyone nearly, but Snape-" Neville shivered. "It has to be the Imperius Curse, Harry, it's the only answer." Neville lowered his voice as well. "We should tell someone."

Harry laughed.

"I think it will be okay, Neville. Hey, I have an idea," he said suddenly. He definitely needed an outlet.

"What's that, Harry."

"Well, it's going to be good, but I'm going to need your help…"

**oOoOo**

Unfortunately, the day of the Slytheirn versus Gryffindor Quidditch match did not dawn bright and clear, but no one had really expected it to. On the other hand, they had not expected it to be quite so stormy, either. Before the match began, Harry gave everyone the usual pep talk and then told them he would be back in five minutes. Looking out onto the pitch he saw that although it was windy, the snow had let up for the moment. He hoped it stayed that way.

Neville was at the required place and Harry handed him a small bundle.

"Okay, Neville, when I give you the thumbs up, light the red one. Try not to let anyone see you. Then, when Madam Hooch calls out the Slytherins, light the green one."

"Gotcha, Harry," replied Neville, and Harry beamed at him and set off cheerfully to find the Slytherins. As he neared their room, he heard raised voices and marvelled at the bonds of friendship that so obviously held their team together. He leaned against the open door frame and watched them arguing. It was really quite interesting, the way they talked to each other. Educational, too, he thought. There were some great insults that he would have to remember. It was also quite disconcerting when his name came up in one of the insults.

"You're such a retard, Greg," said Pansy, who was attempting to sit in Malfoy's lap. He kept moving away.

"Yeah, well, at least he's not shagging Potter," said another student. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"That was a grossly indecent comment, Blaise," said Harry, making his presence known. Malfoy spun around, sneering.

"Potter! What are you doing here?"

"I've come to wish you luck, Draco," he said. "After all, you do need it."

"Yes, I'm sure, Potter. Just make sure you don't faint on us or anything. Are you all better from your little trip?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. He knew Malfoy was acting, at least partially, but it was still insulting. He waited until the guffaws had died down.

"Thankyou for your concern, Draco, but I think I'll be fine."

"Well, if you're done being nice, you can leave now," Malfoy drawled.

"As you wish, Draco. Should be a good game though," Harry said as he walked off. "I hear there's going to be fireworks."

**oOoOo**

As Madam Hooch called the Gryffindors onto the pitch, Harry zoomed past Neville and gave him a thumbs up. Neville surreptitiously prodded the end of the little red package with his wand and it zoomed up off of the ground and into the sky. A second later it exploded in a giant lion's roar and the words 'Go Gryffindor' splashed against the sky. Tiny little lions with golden crowns on their heads zoomed around the words, letting off miniature words. The Gryffindor stands exploded with approval and the Slytherins booed.

Harry landed just as Madam Hooch called the Slytherins onto the pitch, and a second later there was a second explosion.

_Perfect timing,_ thought Harry. Raucous laughter filled the stadium as the Slytherins did their lap, all eyes on the words 'Slytherin sux' that was splashed in green across the sky. A long green snake twined around the words, hissing. There was a second explosion and what looked like a toilet bowl appeared. A little Gryffindor lion jumped down onto the button and the Slytherin snake was flushed out of existence. Harry couldn't help but laugh, although he would have to have a talk to Fred and George. He hadn't known they would go so far.

Harry saw as the Slytherin team landed that they looked livid, and they all looked murderously at Harry. Snape looked pretty mad too, thought Harry with sadistic glee.

"You're going to get it for that, Potter," hissed Malfoy, and Harry was quite sure that this time Malfoy was serious. He didn't have time to wonder what was in store for him though, as Madam Hooch blew the whistle and they zoomed up into the air.

Harry had a feeling that this was going to be a great game. The sky was dark, and the lack of light was mercifully easy-going on his eyes. He pondered the idea of getting sunglasses for his other matches. To his dismay, Slytherin scored the first goal, and then the second, but after that Gryffindor got their act together and scored the next three.

After that it got windier and the cloud got heavier, and Harry was forced to fly lower to even see the pitch. Not long after that it started snowing. Harry's hands, even with gloves on, began to get sore, and it was impossible to see the other players. He had no idea where Malfoy was. Instead of flying around aimlessly, Harry decided to head toward the left goalpost, where the Snitch often turned up. After a few minutes he looked up to see Ginny scoring, and cheered along with everyone else.

After another fifteen minutes, Harry did a lap of the pitch before returning to the goalposts. The snow seemed quite set in, and Harry vaguely wondered how long this match would go for. But suddenly, in a swirl of snow, Harry saw it. He zoomed after it, heading for the centre of the pitch, arm outstretched. Harry, not being able to see far in front of him, hoped someone from the stands could see him about to capture the Snitch.

The Snitch took a jagged turn to the right and Harry followed suit. At the same time his hand closed around the Snitch, another hand was reaching down from slightly above him, and for a moment everything seemed to pause. A split second later, Harry was catapulted backwards and found himself on his knees in the snow, Snitch clasped tightly in his hand. The snow seemed to be easing off slightly now, and Harry could see his firebolt a few feet in front of him, Malfoy on his hands and knees next to it. He was staring at Harry with his mouth open, and he struggled to his feet. Harry was blissfully aware of the clean, cold wind that was travelling across him, clearing the snow away. It was only snowing lightly now, and through the falling whiteness, Harry could see the people in the stands. He wondered why they weren't clapping and cheering. Odd…he thought he'd heard someone scream.

Malfoy was staring at him in horror, his face even paler than usual. Harry tried to speak, to ask what was wrong, but suddenly realised that he couldn't. A gurgling croak came from his throat and he reached up to find blood there. Slowly he looked down at his chest, and that was when the pain came, but it seemed as if it was all happening to someone else. He felt disconnected from his body.

"Woah," he murmured in amazement. He looked up at Malfoy in wonder, and all sorts of things were running through his head. "It can't end like this," he said, and it sounded like he was stating a fact.

Malfoy made a reply, but it didn't really come out as words. Harry extended an arm to him, but Malfoy didn't move. He seemed mesmerised. Harry put one leg slowly forward and tried to stand, but he stumbled forward and fell back to his knees. Other people were running onto the pitch now. Harry looked down at his chest and his hands curved around the smooth polished handle of Malfoy's broomstick. Blood was pooling on the ground around him, the front and back of his robes wet with it.

Harry looked calmly up at Malfoy as he realised something.

"Its okay, Malfoy. I'm not going to die," he said evenly. Malfoy's hands were shaking. Harry fell sideways onto the ground with a thump. Suddenly there were teachers and students everywhere, milling around. People were yelling accusations; some of the Slytherins were flashing each other triumphant smirks. Madam Pomfrey's face swam in front of Harry's vision and he was hauled upright, someone holding his shoulders to keep him there. Hands were working to remove his outer Quidditch robes, and he shivered from the cold. The pain seemed detached from his mind, and odd thoughts were floating through him.

He heard someone ordering someone else to contact St Mungo's, and then someone had removed his shirt. Panic filled Harry, and he searched the crowd for Malfoy. He had disappeared. Through the haze of shock and confusion, Harry sought out Snape. Their eyes locked and Harry opened his mouth, but only a gurgle came out. He coughed and blood sprayed forward onto the white snow. Focussing inward, Harry sent a sharp burst of magic through the Dark Mark, and saw Snape's expression change to one of understanding.

He lurched forward and waved his wand and a curtain sprang up around Harry, hiding him from the eyes of the students. Harry relaxed then, and leaned into the hands that were holding him up. He heard Madam Pomfrey utter a loud gasp as she saw the Dark Mark, but he didn't care. Snape would explain.

He looked down again at the broomstick that was lodged through his chest and thought with ironic mirth that Malfoy had done a better job at killing him than Voldemort ever had, and then he laughed. It came out as an incomprehensible noise, but Harry was sure that they understood what it had been. The curtain opened and Ron, faced white, rushed in ahead of Snape. He was saying something, looking in horror at Harry, but Harry couldn't hear him. Ron's eyes found the Dark Mark and he stopped speaking, his mouth gaping like a fish. Harry wanted to tell him that it was alright, but he couldn't, and Ron looked angry now, angry and sad.

He stormed out of the small enclosure and Harry felt a terrible sinking feeling. Harry put his hand to his chest where the broomstick had entered and saw the glistening red blood. Madam Pomfrey pulled his hand away, and a second later someone was wrapping his hand around a quill. There was a jerk behind his navel and they arrived in the foyer of St Mungo's.

Unaware of the people staring, Harry was hurried into a room, stumbling along as two people supported him. They sat him on the end of a bed, and then Snape was there, forcing a potion down his throat, followed by a second and a third. The third was blood, and Harry retched at the taste of it. The pain slowly dissipated and he looked down in awe at the broomstick, wondering how such a thing could have happened. He remembered vaguely in the few seconds before it had happened seeing Malfoy, speeding towards him. Malfoy had been slightly higher than Harry, and Harry thought that he must have been just surprised as him, and been unable to turn away.

Suddenly there was another witch there, beside Madam Pomfrey, and with a flick of her wand, Harry saw the broomstick disappear. That was when he felt the pain. Blood poured out of the hole, and he thought he might have screamed, if his throat had been working properly. Madam Pomfrey and the mediwitch began casting spells, and another forced a potion down his throat, nearly choking him. The pain reliever didn't seem to be working anymore, and he felt dizzy at the loss of blood. The white misty light pouring from their wands was settling on his chest and he could see the skin starting to repair itself.

He passed out.

**oOoOo**

Three days later, Hermione entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Ron and Seamus. She had been with her parents for four days after their ordeal, and was happy to be back at school.

"Hi, Ron," she said brightly. "Did I miss anything important? Who won the Quidditch game?"

Ron glared at his plate and didn't answer and Seamus and Neville dropped their forks.

"What?" asked Hermione. "What did I miss?"

Ron glowered more and Seamus answered her.

"You missed Harry getting skewered by a broomstick," he said.

Hermione's mouth formed a small 'oh' and her face paled.

"Skewered? By a broomstick?"

"Malfoy," said Seamus darkly.

Hermione looked over at the Slytherin table but Malfoy was absent.

"Where's Harry?" she asked. "Is he okay?"

"He's in the hospital wing," replied Neville, "but no one's allowed to see him."

"You should have seen it," said Dean, as he came to sit with them. "Malfoy's Nimbus sticking through Harry's chest and out his back. We thought he was going to die."

Hermione glanced sideways at Ron, who was still scowling at his plate.

"Ron, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about Harry, Hermione."

"Why not?" asked Hermione, confused. "I think we were too hard on him the other morning, I mean, he _doesn't_ see everything."

"Drop it, Hermione," said Ron, standing up abruptly. He left without another word. Hermione looked to Neville, who shrugged.

"Don't ask me. He's been like that ever since it happened. Won't talk to anyone about it."

Hermione picked up her bag and hurried after him.

**oOoOo**

"Ron! What's wrong with you?" Hermione asked.

Ron stopped and spun around, fury evident on his face.

"You know what, Hermione? I don't think we were too hard on him the other morning. I think he knew exactly what was happening that night."

Hermione stepped back in surprise.

"Why do you say that, Ron?" asked Hermione, bemused.

Ron came closer to her, his face contorted in disdain and hate.

"He's a bloody Death Eater, Hermione, that's why."

Hermione frowned.

"Don't be silly, Ron. Harry's not a Death Eater."

"I saw it with my own eyes, Hermione. Right there on his arm. I don't think the students saw, but the teachers- they know. And I'll tell you what- they're keeping it hushed up."

Hermione looked unsure now, but she shook her head slowly.

"No, Ron, he can't be. There has to be some explanation for it. I mean, you saw the state of him when he got back to Hogwarts- and that was after he saved your sister. We'll just have to go and see him and ask him," Hermione said decisively.

**oOoOo**

Harry was awoken in the middle of the night by a slight shuffling sound at the side of his bed, and he looked up to see the moonlight falling across the blonde hair of Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?" harry rasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, obviously I came to see you," he said, and although the words were sarcastic his tone held no malice.

"You couldn't come in waking hours?"

"They won't let anyone in here to see you- or so they told me. I know for a fact that they let that new girl, Emily De Mere in here. She your girlfriend or something?"

"No," Harry said, fighting off a chuckle.

"Well, obviously they don't trust me then. They probably think I'm going to try and do you in again. You realise they had Aurors here and everything, questioning people?"

"Great," murmured Harry.

"Do you blame me?" asked Malfoy.

Harry turned his head to look at Malfoy more.

"No, of course not. It was an accident."

Malfoy grunted.

"Yeah, well, don't spread that around too much. I'm getting a pretty good reputation out of it."

Harry laughed, but stopped quickly. It hurt.

"Yeah, I saw some of your mates looking pretty happy about it."

"Hmph, well I certainly got you back for those fireworks. They're still trying to figure out who did it. I didn't tell them."

"What about the rest of your team? They heard me."

"Honestly, I'm not sure the teachers are willing to believe a bunch of Slytherins about anything when it comes to Harry Potter."

"So does everyone know yet? That I'm a Death Eater?"

"You aren't a Death Eater, Potter. You don't have what it takes to kill someone."

"I killed Bellatrix."

Malfoy's gaze darkened.

"From what I heard that wasn't entirely your fault."

"You haven't answered my question," said Harry."

"The answer is no. You're damn lucky everyone was too bust gaping at the hole in your chest to look at your arm. Snape put up some kind of curtain thingy to hide you so it was okay after that."

"Ron- he saw. He didn't like it."

"I saw him running away. Pathetic," Malfoy said darkly.

"He thinks I knew about the attack on Hermione's parents."

"Weasley jumps to conclusions without thinking," said Malfoy in disgust. Harry didn't reply. He agreed.

"So, uh, what happened to your Nimbus?" asked Harry.

"It has half-blood insides all over it. I will never touch it again."

"You know I can't tell when you're joking," said Harry.

"Maybe I wasn't."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"Does it hurt?" asked Malfoy.

"Like hell."

"Can I see it?"

Harry lowered the bedspread and slowly unbuttoned his pyjama shirt.

"It's the same on my back," Harry said, referring to the round scar in the centre of his chest. "Just missed my heart."

"Merlin, you heal fast" breathed Malfoy. "You know what, Potter?"

"What's that, Malfoy?"

"I really think I might be _sorry_." Harry thought he looked quite confused.

"Thankyou, Draco."

**oOoOo**

"Things are finally beginning to work in our favour within the Ministry," said Dumbledore. "Arthur has successfully removed Azkaban from control of the Dementors, and they've put a lot into upgrading security there."

McGonagall nodded her approval, but then her face became troubled.

"Albus, what do you intend to do about Harry? Did you know he had the Mark?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"No, Minerva, I did not. I have barely spoken with him all year."

"Perhaps it is time you did so," McGonagall suggested, and he knew from her tone that she fully believed that there lack of communication was not Harry's fault.

"Yes. I will do that. I shall speak with him today."

**oOoOo**

"Can I have visitors today, Madam Pomfrey?" asked Harry. "I'm feeling much better."

"Yes, you may have visitors for a few minutes. I believe the Headmaster will be coming to see you later this afternoon."

"Oh," said Harry, his gaze darkening. "Thankyou."

Madam Pomfrey walked off without another word, and Harry realized that she had been acting quite cold to him since she had seen the Dark Mark etched into his arm. He sighed deeply, wincing when it hurt.

It was not much later when the hospital doors burst open to admit his dorm mates. Well, except for Ron. Harry's heart sank slightly.

"Hi, guys," Harry said brightly as they approached. He gave them all a box of lollies and chocolate from the gigantic pile next to his bed. They sat around talking, until Harry couldn't stand it anymore.

"So…what's up with Ron?" he asked casually. Neville and Seamus exchanged looks.

"He uh, he wasn't really very happy this morning. Hasn't been for a few days. We're not really sure what he was upset about."

"Oh," said Harry, looking away. They sat uncomfortably for a moment.

"Well, we really should get to class," said Dean.

"Thanks for coming," said Harry. "I should be out soon."

"Hope so," said Seamus. "You played well, by the way. No one really got to tell you that."

"Thanks, Seamus. You too." He turned to Neville. "Oh, and Neville. Nice timing."

Neville grinned widely and the other boys looked at them in confusion, but Harry just shook his head and they left.

Ron and Hermione finally came to see him during the lunch break.

"Hello, Harry," said Hermione, and he knew exactly what she wanted when her eyes flicked straight to his left arm. Ron stood staring moodily at the floor. Harry sighed and slowly rolled his sleeve back, shoving it towards them. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand.

"Happy now?" he asked bitterly. He couldn't help but be spiteful after what had happened.

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione. She lunged forward and hugged him, surprising him. When she pulled back there were tears in her eyes. Harry looked to Ron, who glared obstinately at the floor.

"I'm not a Death Eater, Ron," said Harry, as Hermione sniffed.

"Then why didn't you know about the attack on Hermione's parents? And you've been…distant…all year. You haven't been yourself."

Harry looked away, resenting the truth of Ron's last comment.

"I've changed Ron, and I'm truly sorry if you think that's because I've gone dark."

Ron heaved a deep sigh.

"I- don't really think you've gone dark, Harry," he said, finally meeting Harry's gaze. "I was just upset. And I just wish it could be like it used to. I'm sorry, Harry."

"I'm sorry too, Ron, but things won't ever be the same for us again, I don't think. I can't tell you everything yet, but after this war is over there's going to be a lot of secrets coming out. Things that are a lot worse than having a hidden sister."

"Harry," began Hermione haltingly. "You don't need to get involved in this war- you really don't. You shouldn't feel under any obligation because of what happened when you were younger. And no matter what happens, Harry, we will _never_ give up on you. _Never_."

Harry smiled weakly.

"Thankyou, Hermione."

He wanted to believe it, he really did, but they could never understand what Harry would have to do, and he found himself wishing- hoping- beyond anything else, that they would never have to. He looked up at Ron.

"Come on, mate. Come sit here. I know I've got a dirty great scar on my arm, but it doesn't make me evil."

Ron let out a hesitant smile, looking slightly sheepish.

"I was a git," he admitted. "I should have had more faith. I was angry, but I knew, deep down, that you weren't dark or anything." He took a seat on the opposite side of the bed to Hermione.

Hermione leaned forward slightly, clearing her throat.

"I'm sorry too, Harry. I said things I shouldn't have, and I-"

"Its fine," Harry cut in. "I understand."

Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears again.

"We don't deserve you, Harry," she said softly.

"Don't be stupid, Hermione," Harry said firmly. "You guys are the best friends I ever had. You have stuck by me longer that _anyone_. You have absolutely _no_ reason to be sorry. Now, let's get off this depressing subject."

They all split hesitant smiles, and Harry could almost pretend that they were back in the past, before there had been any great responsibility.

"So…d'you reckon we cold have a look at that scar?" asked Ron, flushing slightly. Faking a sigh, Harry unbuttoned his shirt and opened it.

"Blimey," Ron muttered, while Hermione gasped in horror.

"You know," said Ron, glowering darkly. "Malfoy's being treated like an absolute god amongst the Slytherins. I heard a rumour that they've got his broom strung up in the common room as some kind of good luck charm or icon or something ridiculous."

"That's impossible," breathed Hermione, staring avidly at Harry's chest.

Ron shot her a disbelieving look.

"I don't think so, Hermione, I mean I heard Snape say something about it to McGonagall."

"No, Ron, not that," she said. Her eyes went slowly up to Harry and the cut on his cheek. "You know, Ron, when I spoke to my parents they said that there was someone else there that night, besides the Death Eaters. They had a dark cloak on, but not a mask. They said he saved them. He took out all five Death Eaters before the Aurors could even get there, and when they did, he disappeared. No one knows who it was, but my parents…" Hermione's glance fluttered once again across his cheek, then down to the nearly healed slash across his chest. She swallowed hard and went on. "My parents said that the last Death Eater- it was Lucius Malfoy- he hit the person with some kind of curse across there chest, and they said there was blood on the hood of the person cloak, near there cheek. They said that person saved their lives, Harry."

Ron was now looking with dawning comprehension between Hermione's face and Harry's wounds, and Harry roughly shrugged his shirt closed.

"Don't spread it around," Harry said gruffly. How could he have been so stupid? Of course the Grangers would have reported that their rescuer had been injured. It didn't matter so much now, though, and he supposed he would have told them had they not had the initial reaction they did the morning after.

Well, maybe not.

Hermione burst into tears again, this time receiving an angry look from Madam Pomfrey, and lunged at Harry, causing him to wince slightly.

"Easy, Hermione," he grunted, and she sprung back from him.

"Sorry," she squeaked. "Why didn't you tell us, Harry? And how?"

"Bloody hell, Harry," said Ron. "You never do things by half, do you?"

"I didn't want anyone to know I was going out of school grounds," muttered Harry. "Especially not Dumbledore."

"Oh, that's so dangerous, Harry," Hermione fretted. "You could have been killed."

"There was no time to get anyone else. I had a dream of it, and they looked about ready to finish your parents off, if that's what they intended at least, so I just headed straight over there."

"How did you get there, though?" asked Ron.

Harry hesitated.

"I uh- I apparated. Illegally. All the more reason to keep it quiet."

"When did you learn that?" Hermione gasped.

"When?" echoed Ron.

"Not long ago," he said vaguely.

"Jeez, Harry, I feel like such a git," Ron said morosely.

"It doesn't matter, Ron, really," Harry assured him. And he found it really didn't.

**oOoOo**

Dumbledore's visit was brief and rather unproductive. He asked the usual inane questions about Harry's health, before asking him if there was anything Harry wanted to tell him, because if there was, his door was always open. Harry answered his questions as briefly as possible, and then he had told the old man that he wanted to be a part of the Order. Harry did not back down and only under his assurances that he had mastered Occlumency, and submitting to a test o fthis, did the old man himself finally submit.

**oOoOo**

The sun had just gone down when Madam Pomfrey forbid anyone else to see him, and he was glad for the break. He even managed to sleep for a while, and when he woke up the lights in the ward He heard the rustle of fabric, but turning his head in the darkness he could see nothing there. He closed his eyes again, but this time he could have sworn he heard a footstep. Turning his head sharply he listened hard for noises, and there it was again, a scuffle of fabric against the floor.

Suddenly he smiled. He knew who it was.

"Katherine," he said, and there was a sigh and Katherine appeared before him, Cloak in her hands.

"Good evening," she said formally, sitting down, but her arched eyebrow belied her serious tone. She grinned and he raised a hand to her cheek.

"It's good to see you," he murmured. "I wish we didn't have to do this in secret."

"It won't before forever, Harry," she replied, and Harry sat up, pulling her to him at the same time. "I was so scared," she murmured against his lips. "I was so worried that you were going to die. There was so much blood, everywhere."

"Shhh, it's all right," he murmured. "I'm not going to die."

"I believe you," she whispered, and pressed her lips to his.

"We shouldn't be making out in the hospital wing," he murmured feebly, pulling her closer against him. "But I sure do like it."

Katherine smiled against his lips, and Harry felt her hand slip beneath his shirt. Her slim fingers ran lightly over his stomach, higher up his chest and over the circular scar in the centre of his chest.

"It must hurt," she whispered, pulling back to look at him.

"Only a little bit now," he replied softly, and pulled her back to him. His hand played with the hem of her shirt, slipping under to caress the smooth skin there. Katherine let out a low moan as Harry's hand travelled higher and his lips moved over her jaw and down to her neck. Harry felt his heart beating harder, pounding against his ribcage, and felt himself becoming irresistibly aroused.

"Katherine," he murmured, his lips not leaving the warmth of her neck.

"Hmm?"

"Got any of that stuff on you right now? Because if you don't…we should…really stop," he said softly, placing kisses underneath her ear.

"I would think," came a cold voice from in front of him, "that that would be an excellent idea."

Harry could have sworn that his heart stopped then, if only for a second. He slowly withdrew his hand from the warmth of her body and she haltingly did the same, turning to face the intruder.

"_Young lady_," hissed Snape, his voice venomous as he enunciated each word, "you will go to my rooms _right now_, and wait there until such time as I arrive. Is that clear?"

"Yes," she replied, and stood, twining her fingers around Harry's for a short, unnoticeable second. She left silently, without looking at either of them.

There was utter silence for a long moment after the door of the hospital ward swung shut with an almost silent thump. The tension in the air was so thick that Harry thought that he might nearly stoop breathing. At this moment he thought that Snape might be fully capable of killing him. Perhaps he was just being dramatic, exaggerating, but as he looked up at the man himself through the darkness, Harry felt his doubts.

Snape was standing imperiously at the end of the bed, a vial in his hands.

"I brought this for you, Potter, but seems like I was wasting my time. You are already taking the blood of another."

Snape fell silent and Harry stared in rebelliousness and dismay at the dangerous undertone in Snape's voice. There was no way he was going to get away with this.

"Do you realise," asked Snape with deadly softness, "what you have done? Do you realise the foolishness of your actions?"

"You wouldn't care if it wasn't _her_," Harry shot back hotly, his voice a low hiss. He realised too late that that was the wrong thing to say.

Snape was looming over Harry in a flash, the vial of blood clenched so tightly in his hand that his knuckles were white.

"I had my suspicions, Potter, from what I saw in your mind that day. When I tried to substantiate this suspicion, I found them untrue. And then, Potter, that _unfortunate_ incident occurred, and I had to question _why she_ was taken. I can assure you that I am no fool, and now I have seen the proof with my own eyes. I don't think, Potter, that you understand the position we are in. You could have Turned her. You could have lost control and mauled her, or drained her until she was dead."

Snape's breathing was harsh, and Harry couldn't ever remember seeing him this emotional about anything.

"I was careful," Harry spat. "I would not have lost control. I would not have killed her."

Even as he said it, he wondered if it was true. Could he have lost control, just as Snape was telling him? Would she have died because of it? He looked down at his lap, away from Snape. Snape was not finished.

"Make no mistake, Potter, although your intentions may have been honourable, they are far from relevant. I have seen adolescents just as yourself lose control, from nothing more than normal teenage hormones. But you are not normal, Potter, and you are far more deadly. You will cost her her life."

"I saved her life," hissed Harry, angry now.

"She would not have been there in the first place were it not for you," spat Snape.

The truth of the words hit deep within Harry and he stared numbly his hands, unsure of what to say. This was Snape, and he couldn't tell Snape how he felt.

"You are right," said Harry finally, and he could tell that Snape was surprised. "I know you are right. And as much as I would like to pretend otherwise, there is no point denying what I am and what I will do because of that. I was a fool to think it would ever last, because I will never be accepted."

Snape was silent for only a moment.

"You have never spoken truer words," he said coldly.

"Well, I cannot deny my actions. She was not my first victim, and she will certainly not be my last."

"You call her a victim?"

Harry shrugged in reply.

"She is someone who has suffered because of me. What else should I call her?"

Snape stared down his long nose at Harry before extending the vial.

"Drink," he ordered, and Harry did.

"It's not as nice," he noted with distaste.

"Old blood is never as fresh, or as pure. It eventually loses its magical properties, but it is more than sufficient."

"Where do you get it from?"

"The blood you have been ingesting is mine," Snape replied sourly, Harry felt a momentary but nonetheless strong desire to vomit. "There is no place where you can buy blood legally, but I will continue to supply you with it. I have no choice."

"I don't want your blood," replied Harry, closing his eyes in the sudden weariness that had come upon him in the last ten minutes. "I didn't want anyone's blood," he murmured.

"You cannot deny it, Potter. Have you forgotten so quickly how weak you were in those months after you were bitten?"

Harry gave a short, coarse laugh.

"Someone once told me that being able to deny our basic impulses it what makes us human. I kept thinking that if I denied it long enough it would make it true."

Snape was silent.

"Go to sleep, Mr Potter," he said eventually, and Harry thought that his voice sounded bitter. Harry spoke to him as he turned away.

"Rookwood and his friend- you visited them?" Snape paused but did not turn around.

"Earlier this evening," he replied, turning his head only slightly to answer Harry. "The other was Rosier. They have been dealt with."

"They're dead?"

"They have had their memories stripped from them and are currently residing in an alley way in an entirely Muggle city."

"That's all you did?" Harry asked in disbelief. Snape tuned around.

"I was not gentle with them, I can assure you," Snape said, an almost satisfied sneer on his features. Harry nodded.

"Good."

"You condone my actions?"

"I have attempted two Unforgivables, Snape" said Harry bitterly. "I am in no position to judge _you_." He heard Snape draw in a deep breath.

"Who would have thought?" he taunted, his mocking voice irritating Harry. "Our Saviour is not so virtuous after all."

"They didn't work," Harry said.

"But you have taken the first step, Potter, and that is what matters. You have the knowledge, you have the intention, and I know you have the power. Now all you need is the will."

"What did it take to give you the will?" Harry snarled, suddenly sick of Snape. "Was it when they killed your precious Evelyn? Or was it before that, when your father abused your mother and you first realised he was a vicious bastard?"

Snape went suddenly still.

"You insolent little child," he said quietly, his voice quivering with rage. "I should-"

"Should what?" Harry interrupted. "Haven't you done enough to destroy my pathetic life? Just leave, Snape. I have no wish to cross swords with you, nor do I wish to point fingers. I will have enough of that to do when I bring down the Order."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Wow, I have to say I'm really happy with the response this fic is getting! Thankyou to everyone who is reviewing. I have been getting some questions about the thing with Harry's eye. Some of you think he doesn't have one anymore. This is not the case. He still has both of his eyes, but one doesn't work anymore. That's why people aren't asking him where his missing eye went- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 29: Of Manipulation and Murder**


	29. Of Manipulation and Murder

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 29**

**Of Manipulation and Murder**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

The two weeks he spent in hospital were more than enough for Harry to formulate his plan. The way he saw it, he could act now, fulfil the first prophecy, and save the lives that time would take. The alternative was waiting until it fulfilled itself, in some twist of fate that he would be unprepared for. But who knew how long that would take? How many lives would be lost in that time?

Harry had made his decision, and he would not take it lightly. The day after he got out of the hospital wing, Harry went to Darthmoor. He found his way quicker this time, past the howling, windy cliffs and the dark ravine. The thump of drums was low and loud, and it raised an almost animalistic instinct in him. He fought it down, because he had seen the way those vampires were, and he was not like that. He was not an animal.

Abruptly the sound of drums died away and by the time he did the ritual was over. Now, the vampires milled around, and it looked more like a social gathering than anything else. They stilled as he walked through them, remembering his last visit and how their lord and king had been so furious after he left.

"My Lord," greeted Harry. He bowed low, and the hood of the black cloak hid his face.

"Young V'Ardian," said the king, standing up. Harry straightened as well. You don't leave your neck exposed to anyone, whether they are a vampire or not.

"My Lord, I seek council with you."

"On what account?"

"My Lord I come to discuss our respective allegiances in the war against the Dark Lord."

Ilveer looked down at Harry, gaze sharp, and beckoned for him to follow. Isautier followed without question. He followed the king into the same room that they had used on the last occasion, and Ilveer turned sharply to him.

"I cannot discuss such matters with someone I do not know," he said coldly, and Harry shivered at the danger behind those words.

"I will tell you my identity, my Lord, but I must insist that it remain within this room."

"Very well," Ilveer agreed quickly, almost surprising Harry. Harry dipped his head in appreciation and lowered his hood.

"My name is Harry Potter, my Lord."

Ilveer's eyes narrowed and he leaned threateningly against the stone wall.

"You are brave coming here, young one," he said softly, and Harry thought that the voice sounded ominously like Snape's. "Foolish, but brave."

He surveyed Harry closely, and Harry said nothing.

"I wish to see your mark," he said abruptly, and Harry did so, rolling back his right hand sleeve. Ilveer came and took his hand, and his touch was surprisingly warm. He gazed over Harry's mark in some surprise.

"You oppose the Dark Lord," he said, drawing away with liquid grace.

"You can tell that from my mark?" Harry asked, surprised. He wasn't sure it would go down too well if he could it a scar here.

"You carry the symbol of V'Ardian at the centre of your mark, and it symbolises how you carry your family at the centre of you life."

"I don't have a family," Harry said.

"Your loved ones, then. The snake's head opposes the sword, and this is somewhat contradictive, because upon the sword grows vines. It is the sword of healing, and it symbolises defence. Your snake-side is poisonous, but I think you do not let it overpower your other side. That is why I believe you oppose Voldemort."

_If you couldn't guess from the name,_ Harry thought sarcastically, but he was still intrigued at the way Ilveer could tell all of that from the scar. It gave him a glimmer of hope, however small.

"And you support him," Harry pressed.

"Yes. He offers us freedom that the wizards do not allow us, and he would be hard pressed to disobey the terms of our deal."

"That's changing now," said Harry. "The new minister, Arthur Weasley, he's revoking all those ridiculous laws."

"That is true, but it is not enough, not yet."

"The people are not afraid of you for what you are, Ilveer, they are afraid because they know what you can become if you follow Voldemort."

Ilveer sneered at him, swinging away to a lounge chair.

"Why have you come here, Harry Potter?" Ilveer asked eventually, looking up at him through black eyes.

"I have come to ask that you ally yourself with me. I don't ask to be your leader, nor do I expect that you will openly fight, I only ask that it be known to Voldemort that you are no longer on his side."

Isautier stared in silence at him, and Ilveer did the same.

"You expect that we will change sides for _you_?" He laughed.

"My Lord, I will win this war and Voldemort will die. I am asking that you will be on the winning side."

"And how do you know that you will win?" queried Ilveer. "When you say that do you refer to yourself or the conglomerate of the Light?"

"Myself," said Harry firmly. Ilveer seemed amused.

"You? He asked pointedly. "A young wizard who has not yet even completed his schooling and who will be spurned when it becomes known what he is."

"I have my reasons, Ilveer," Harry said quietly, "and I will defeat him because I am the only one who can. I cannot fail."

Ilveer paused for a moment.

"Very well," he said softly. "It is done." Harry blinked.

"You will?"

"You are lucky that you are of V'Ardian, young one, and that the V'Ardian clan is so powerful. The Dark Lord will find it hard to topple us."

Harry bowed deeply. Had it really been so easy? If vampiric pacts were so easily broken, he would have to be careful.

"My greatest thanks to you, my Lord," Harry said. "Do you request payment?"

Harry's throat was tight as he said the word. Ilveer considered him for a moment.

"Voldemort owed nothing to us and neither will you. Our allegiance is freely given."

Harry bowed again.

"Be gone now, young one, and may your travels be fruitful."

"As should yours be, my Lord."

Ilveer eyed him sharply for a moment.

"You have strength, young Lord, and courage. I believe you will not fail."

Harry bowed his head once more.

"It has been an honour," he said, and left.

The small triumph left him in high spirits.

**oOoOo**

Harry sat with Katherine in the Room of Requirement. He held her hand in his, running his fingers over her knuckles.

"What did my father say to you?" she asked softly.

"I think you have a pretty good idea, Katherine. What did he say to _you_?"

Katherine hesitated, looking away.

"He said that you were completely beneath me, and that he was very disappointed, and then he gave me detention for being out after lights out."

"That's the short version," Harry said.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"There's something I have to tell you," said Harry, and Katherine looked up at him. Harry rolled up the sleeve of his left arm and rubbed his thumb over the Dark Mark. It burned beneath his skin, rough to the touch. Katherine breathed in a sharp breath. Reaching out, she rolled his sleeve back down and held her hands around his wrist.

"It doesn't matter," she said softly. "It makes no difference to who you are, Harry."

"It has, though," Harry replied. "It feels so…dirty. It feels so wrong."

Katherine sighed deeply.

"Harry, I of _all_ people know that it means nothing. Okay?"

Harry stood up abruptly.

"I can't see you anymore," he said, his heart wrenching painfully.

Katherine stood up as well, her face troubled before being replaced by the familiar calm mask.

"I know…I know that my father is difficult. I know that there is a lot about you two and your father that I don't understand, and I also understand why he doesn't want me with you. But Harry, when this is all over, I will still be here and my father won't have any reasons to keep me away from you. Just remember that."

Harry smiled gratefully and raised his hand to her cheek.

"Thankyou, Katherine," he said. He pulled her to him in a tight hug.

"You know you don't have to go straight away," Katherine mumbled into his chest. "Especially since we're not going to see each other for a while."

Harry didn't have the heart to resist. She pulled a small vial of the potion from the pocket of her robes and swallowed it.

"Shall we sit down?" Harry asked. Katherine nodded, and Harry sank down onto a comfortable lounge that had suddenly materialised and pulled her onto his lap. He placed a quick kiss onto her neck and then sank his teeth into her, sucking as the blood swelled out. Katherine clutched his hands over her stomach, sighing as she relaxed into his grip.

"This is much more comfortable," she breathed.

"Mmhmm," Harry murmured, running his tongue over the small holes in her neck as they healed.

"This…makes me feel…so good," Harry murmured as he began placing kisses on her neck.

"Harry!" Katherine giggled. Harry pulled back in mock horror.

"Did you just giggle?"

"No," snapped Katherine sliding off his lap so she could face him.

"Good," he murmured as he pressed his lips to hers again, "Because Snapes _never _giggle."

**oOoOo**

As Harry stepped into the fireplace in Professor McGonagall's office and spoke the name of 12 Grimmauld Place, the Order pendant was a warm, heavy weight against his chest. As he vanished, he saw the pursed lips and disapproving face of the Transfiguration teacher, but Harry wasn't sure he really cared. Harry stepped straight out of the fireplace and into the dining room, grateful to be the first there. Professor McGonagall followed soon after and they took seats at the table.

"Well, Mr Potter," she said severely. "I hope you make the most of the opportunity that the headmaster is giving you here. I certainly don't approve of you being here. You are still underage."

"Yes, Professor," Harry acknowledged, but his thoughts were elsewhere. A moment later the door to the dining room was flung open and Remus and Tonks entered, both of them looking worse for the wear. Remus faltered when he saw Harry.

"Harry," he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Remus. Dumbledore let me join the Order," said Harry. Remus frowned, but Harry's attention was already moving on to Tonks.

"Hi Tonks. Do you think I could have a word with outside for a moment?" he asked. Her face registered surprise.

"I don't think that's really a good idea, Mr Potter," she said eventually. "The meeting's going to start soon." Remus looked at her in surprise, wondering when she had started calling Harry by that name. Harry stood up.

"No, I insist, Tonks," he said, going to the door. "It's really important."

Professor McGonagall and Remus were both frowning at him now, but Harry just raised his eyebrows at Tonks and said, "It will only take a moment, really."

Tonks suddenly smiled brilliantly, but it didn't reach her eyes, and followed Harry out the door.

She followed him in silence to a room across the hall and Harry shut the door behind them.

"So, Tonks," said Harry, smiling coldly and drawing his wand. "Been talking to Voldemort lately?"

Tonks' eyes narrowed slightly and her hand twitched towards her wand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Harry. He smiled humourlessly at her before flicking his wrist up at her quickly, calling on his power. "Imperio."

He didn't know if a person could be under two Imperius curses at once, but he had to try. As soon as his mind connected with hers he felt the dark, malignant presence of Voldemort. He could feel Tonk's presence, distraught beneath the surface and reached out to contact her.

"Kick him out, Tonks," he told her, exerting his own force over her mind. And suddenly, as though someone had flicked a switch, Voldemort's magic was gone and Harry withdrew to see a dazed looking Tonks standing before him.

"Hi, Tonks," he said. Tonks sat down with a thump and put her hand over her mouth.

"You did that?" she asked.

"Well, you did really, I just told you to," said Harry, smiling. He glanced around the room to give Tonks a moment to compose herself. It was the sitting room that they had cleaned out at the beginning of his fifth year, and it had been a long time since he had been in here. It was quite pretty really, with lots of landscape portraits, but although it looked quite cosy, there was an intimidating presence about it. The bust of a woman with a soft face stood on a dresser in the corner, a silver locket around her neck and matching earrings in her ears. Harry had never seen real jewellery on a statue before, and supposed that it must have been a jewellery stand or something.

He turned his attention back to Tonks, who now had a tear slipping down her cheek.

"What have I done?" she asked him, staring up at him with wide eyes.

"Well, your students certainly aren't all that fond of you," he said, "but apart from that I'm really not sure exactly what you've done. Actually, that's not true. You kidnapped Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Katherine Winters from Hogwarts. Who knows what other information you passed on to Voldemort."

Tonks let out another wail just as Remus opened the door and looked in.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking from Harry to Tonks in bewilderment. Tonks looked up at him and jumped up, running to him.

"Oh, Remus," she cried, flinging her arms around him. "I'm so sorry! He was controlling me and I couldn't do anything about it and-"

Remus looked up at Harry in shock, his eyes narrowing.

"Harry was doing this?" he asked, but Tonks shook her head. Harry felt a stab of betrayal- how could Remus think he would do that- but brushed it aside. He cared a lot about Tonks, and people always protected the ones they loved.

"Voldemort," said Harry. He pushed past them and left them to it. When he returned to the dining room it was much fuller than before and as soon as he opened the door there was a muffled scream and Mrs Weasley threw herself at him.

"Oh Harry, it's so good to see you! I can't believe-" here she shot the headmaster a filthy glance, "-that Albus is letting you join! You're too young!" she wailed in dismay. Harry smiled at her, feeling touched.

"Thankyou for caring, Mrs Weasley, but I really feel that this is the best thing right now," he said. Mrs Weasley sniffed and hugged him again.

"Well- I suppose you've earned it," she admitted. "Even if I'm not happy about it."

Harry nodded and took a place leaning in the corner of the back wall where shadow partly his him from view. He didn't want too many people commenting. Ten minutes passed and the room filled quickly during that time. Harry saw Remus edge in and sidle up to Dumbledore. Tonks followed him silently, her eyes red and slightly puffy. Remus was whispering urgently in Dumbledore's ear and the headmaster's glance shot towards Harry and then back to Tonks. He nodded eventually and sent a kind smile at Tonks, who smiled timidly back.

The last to arrive before the meeting started was Snape, and he swept straight to the back of the room. He stopped when he caught sight of Harry, who had a feeling that he had stolen the Potion Master's spot.

"Potter," he spat.

"Don't waste your breath," replied Harry. "I have permission to be here and I'm not moving."

Snape leaned closer, lowering his voice.

"Is that wise, Potter?"

Harry met his eyes and spoke with a tone of finality.

"The more I know, the quicker it will be over," he said quietly.

Snape looked troubled for a second before he moved to the centre of the back wall and Harry turned slightly so he could keep his eye on him.

Dumbledore clapped his hands and the room quieted immediately.

"Good evening," said Dumbledore happily. A few people responded and Harry saw Snape's lip curl in disdain. "The last week has been excellent for the Order, I am please to say, and I have some excellent news. We have acquired the aid of the elves and just yesterday, I was approached by a messenger of the V'Ardian clan of vampires, and they too have extended the offer of allegiance."

A few people gasped in surprise. Snape turned his head in surprise to look at Harry, who nodded and confirmed Snape's unspoken question.

Unfortunately, that was Dumbledore's biggest announcement for the evening; the rest of it consisted of people giving reports and bringing other people up to date on their own missions. Harry couldn't help but grin when Snape gave his report.

"The Dark Lord is planning- still- to take out Potter, though it seems that his more immediate target is Albus. I am unaware of the details of his intentions as of yet. Also, he has been set back by the loss of two of his most loyal Death Eaters, Rosier and Rookwood, who disappeared out of the Dark Lord's headquarters. He is searching for them I believe, to punish them."

Harry smiled darkly as Snape went on. The man really wasn't as honest as he should be.

After the meeting, Dumbledoer approached Harry.

"Harry, you will be returning to Hogwarts with Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. I ask that you remain in my office so that I can speak with you. I will be there shortly."

Harry nodded and stepped into the fireplace; there was a rush of flames, a whoosh of air, and he stumbled out into Dumbldeore's office. He took a seat and a few minutes later Dumbledore with a flash of flame.

"How has your day been, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, smiling kindly at Harry over his glasses.

"Good, thanks, sir," replied Harry, leaning back comfortably in the chair.

"Lemon drop?" offered Dumbledore.

"No thanks, sir. Actually, I was wondering if you'd had any luck finding that V'Ardian person."

Dumbledore sighed.

"Alas, we have been unable to locate him. Our only solace is that Voldemort also has been unable to locate him."

"So, if this guy is bad, then why is his clan on our side?"

Harry fought back the urge to laugh at the look of utter bewilderment on Dumbledore's face.

"I am completely at a loss, Harry, they were very tight-lipped about their decision. I have, however, no doubt that they are sincere in their offer."

"Well, that's good then, isn't it, sir? What else did you want to speak to me about?"

Dumbldeore became serious at once and peered sternly at Harry.

"I believe I have found the reason for Voldemort's inability to be killed."

"What's that, sir?" asked Harry.

"Have you ever heard of a Horcrux, Harry?"

"No, sir, what is it?" Harry asked obediently.

"A Horcrux is a powerful magical object, Harry. It is an item in which a part of the soul has been stored. I believe that Voldemort has created six of these, and hidden them. I have destroyed one myself, and you too, have destroyed one."

"Riddle's diary!" said Harry eagerly, but he was intrigued. Which one had Dumbledore destroyed? Dumbldeore looked surprised at his answer.

"Excellent, Harry, I believe you are correct. The second, which came into my possession recently, was a ring that once belonged to Slytherin. It was extremely hard, but I managed to remove Voldemort's soul from it."

Harry nodded, pleased. He had his own suspicions about the other Horcruxes, but they were few.

"So here are the other ones, sir?" he asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"I have been searching, Harry, and I believe I know where another is."

"Can I come with you when you go to get it, sir?" asked Harry. Dumbledore considered his request carefully.

"Yes, Harry, I believe you can," Dumbledore replied eventually. Harry felt a savage triumph erupt in his chest.

"And what about the other ones?" he asked.

"The others…yes. Voldemort holds one seventh of his soul inside his body. The diary, of course, and the ring, are gone, which leaves us with four. I am very close to finding the fourth one, to which I will take you. The remaining three, I believe will have once been objects of great value to the other three founders. I have yet to find them."

Harry was quite sure that Dumbledore was wrong about the last three Horcruxes, but he was not about to point this out.

"Do you think Nagini might be one, sir? It's just that I saw through her eyes once, when she attacked Mr Weasley, and how would I have been able to do that if she wasn't connected to Voldemort?"

Dumbledore looked startled at this suggestion, but discarded it.

"I am almost certain she is not, Harry, but I will look into it. It is unlikely however, that Voldemort would use an animal in which to store his soul."

Harry nodded slowly.

"So when will we go?"

**oOoOo**

Harry went to bed that night feeling intensely satisfied at the weeks work, and the feeling remained with him as he went down to breakfast with Emily the next morning. Ron and Hermione came soon after and once they were finished they headed off to History of Magic together. Harry sat at the back as usual and opened his book to the chapter they were up to. It was on the development of the Unforgivables. To Harry's relief Professor Binns had not gone too deeply into Harry's life, but added facts intermittently and as they were relevant to the topic. Today, however, turned out to be different.

"Today," he droned, "we will be discussing the presence of fate and prophecy and their place within the history of the Dark Arts. Throughout time, every evil wizard who has lived has been defeated, and their defeater has often been the subject of a foretelling. The current example is that of the Dark Lord."

Harry looked up so quickly he hurt his neck, but he tensed at the words. Lavender and Parvati looked intensely excited at the thought that they could use divination skills in this subject.

"The prophecy regarding the current Dark Lord was made to Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, by a Seer by the name of Sybill Trelawney, wh9o is currently Divination professor at Hogwarts."

Lavender and Parvati squealed in excitement. No one had ever paid more attention in this class.

"The recording of the prophecy was destroyed a year ago in the Department of Mysteries, but I have here the memory of the original to show you instead."

Harry felt his face drain of blood.

"The subject of the prophecy is believed to be-"

"Stop!" Harry said loudly. Some people turned to look at him. "You can't _show_ them!"

Professor Binns frowned.

"Young man, I have permission from the headmaster himself to use this memory."

"What?" asked Harry, stunned, but growing angry. "Dumbledore _gave_ you that memory?"

"Yes, Mr Parker, he did. Now-" Professor gestured to Lavender to go up the front, and she jumped up in excitement and pulled a Pensieve from the cupboard that the ghost pointed to. She placed it on the desk out the front and withdrew her wand. In an instant, Harry was up the front and gripped Lavender's wrist before she could call forth the memory.

"Don't, Lavender," he said frantically. "_Please don't_."

Lavender glared at him and wrenched her wrist out of his grasp. People were muttering now and Harry looked back as Ron called out to him.

"Harry, what's wrong? Don't you want to hear it?" He asked. Harry saw Hermione and Emily hit him at the same time.

Lavender took his moment of inattention to prod the swirling white mixture and Harry spun back around as he heard Professor Trelawney's ghostly voice drift across the room. Harry fought the insane urge to take the Pensieve and smash it on the stone floor.

"_The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches…born as the seventh month dies, born to those who have thrice defied him, And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other remains."_

Harry turned, breathing heavily in anger as he turned to face Lavender.

"I warned you, Lavender," he hissed. "I told you not to. Are you happy now?"

Lavender took a step backwards, fear flickering across her face. Professor Binns was still talking, oblivious to what was happening in his class.

"The subject of the prophecy is believed to be Harry Potter, whose parents are renowned for having escaped the Dark Lord's wrath three times, and who has subsequently escaped the Dark Lord a total of six times…"

Harry shut the voice out and slammed out of the classroom. He couldn't remember ever being so mad. Dumbledore had _promised_. It was not his right…

His anger made it easier for him to write the letter, his script abrupt and sharp. He hurried straight up to the owlery, unwilling to allow his anger to abate in the fear that common sense or disgust or some other stupid thing like nobility halted his actions.

As he watched the school owl fly off into the distance the anger dissipated instantly and Harry truly understood the depth of what he had just done. He told himself that it was okay, that this was how it should happen, but still the irrepressible feeling that what he had just done was evil hung in his chest. He awaited his destiny with a heavy heart.

**oOoOo**

News spread fast, Harry thought, as he walked down the crowded corridor. Hushed whispers followed him everywhere, whispers debating the truth of the rumours, the existence of the prophecy, and the feasibility of the Chosen One. Some glared at him as though he were a lying, deceitful piece of scum, while others looked on in hushed adoration, their gazes almost worshipful. More than once Harry was forced down an alternate route when the stares and the crowds became too many and as a result he was late for his class. When he entered the room, Snape deducted ten points while the rest of the class stared on in silence. Some of the Slytherins glared.

"Got a problem?" Harry spat, sick of the stares.

"Mr Potter," Snape snapped with a sneer. "Despite your delusions that you are important, you have no right to address your peers in such a manner. That will be another ten points."

Harry shot Snape a filthy glance and flung himself into a seat, but Snape was already telling the rest of the class to vacate theirs, and Harry remembered that it was their practical lesson. He jumped up before he could incur Snape's wrath again and smiled grimly to himself. What a perfect chance to let off some steam, he thought.

"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Ron, sidling up to him with Hermione.

"Fine," Harry said curtly.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione asked.

Harry turned to look at them.

"Because it was _private_," he said, and turned back to the scene in front of him.

Ron and Hermione exchanged dubious looks and left him alone. When the desks were cleared, Snape fixed a sneer on his face and let his gaze travel over the grouped students.

"Your exams are mere _weeks_ away," he intoned, "And hardly any of you have managed to attain a skill level worthy of the required grade to stay in this class."

Harry felt Hermione flinch beside him.

"Though I loath to say it," Snape went on, "the best duellist in this class is Potter." He spat the name out with exaggerated derision. "Mr Malfoy has also shown considerable skill. Potter, Malfoy, take your positions. You are going to demonstrate to these incompetents how to duel."

"I'd rather not," Harry said coldly, and Malfoy grinned.

"Scared, Potter?"

"Wouldn't want to hurt you, Malfoy."

"Potter, you have the option of fuelling, or paying a visit to the headmaster. It is your choice."

Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and stepped into the centre of the room. He had no desire to see Dumbledore right now. Snape gave the signal to begin and Malfoy sent a stunner at Harry. He blocked it with a lazy flick of his wand and waited for Malfoy's next spell.

"Stop," said Snape. "Potter, this is a duel. It seems you need an incentive to try harder. Bullstrode, Parkinson, Ruiz, Nott, and Goyle. Join Mr Malfoy."

Harry rolled his eyes.

_Not again._

"That's hardly fair, sir," he said. Snape sneered.

"Then you will have to try harder, won't you?"

"That's not what I meant, Professor. Surely you don't intend to let them all be defeated by me again. It would surely damage their pride."

Malfoy scowled at the slight and Harry felt a sense of satisfaction. Malfoy, at least, would try hard to prove his worth. The Slytherins grouped behind Malfoy, who spat at them to spread out. He backed back to the edge of the circle and turned slightly so he could see them all. He cursed the loss of sight in his left eye. Malfoy's eyes gleamed in anticipation and Snape again gave the signal to begin. Harry put up a shield as Snape began to give pointers to the Slytherins.

"Spells and enchantments are not the only way to weaken your enemy. Use what you know of them to your advantage, and manipulate their weaknesses to breach their defences."

"You're worthless, Potter," hissed Malfoy. "You will never be able to defeat him."

Harry felt his blood boil at the comment, even though Malfoy was only following Snape's instructions. Feeling spiteful, he let the shield fall and dropped to the ground.

"Serpensortia," he hissed, and erected a second shield not a moment too soon. He glanced maliciously at Ruiz and hissed to the writhing snake, "Attack him. Do not bite. Do not kill."

The snake rushed to do his bidding and Harry felt a stab of savage triumph at the look on Ruiz's face.

Dropping the shield for a second only, Harry sent a stunner at Malfoy, but the Slytherin deflected it. Snape began speaking again.

"Notice how Potter moves whenever he drops his shield. It prevents him from being hit. One cannot continuously rely on a shield, however, as they can be broken."

Harry dashed to the side and fired a disarming spell at Millicent Bullstrode and to his surprise she managed to jump out of its way. She had never been very agile. Snape was giving pointers again, bringing a halt to Malfoy's taunts.

"Mental weaknesses are not the only way to disable an opponent. Physical weaknesses are much more obvious and easier to exploit." Harry saw where this was going now, and saw understanding dawn on Malfoy's face.

"Go to his left, Nott," Malfoy hiss, and arrogant smirk now on his features. Nott obeyed without the slightest hesitance and Harry sneered in scorn. He turned more to his left, but now his eyes were flicking back and forth, trying to keep everyone in view.

Harry stopped then, and stood straight, staring into Malfoy's eyes.

_Malfoy, you fool, what are you doing?_ Harry thrust the thought into Malfoy's head, and his eyes widened in surprise. His face twisted in anger and he thrust Harry out of his head.

"Stunners, all at once," Malfoy sneered, raising his wand. Harry braced his shield and Malfoy counted down. Five stunners shot at him and Harry felt the shield buckle effortlessly beneath him. He dropped to the ground and they collided above his head in a flash of red light. Malfoy ordered Nott further around, and Harry turned more. He was completely side on now, and some of the students looked confused about his unorthodox stance.

"You idiot, Malfoy. Don't you dare say another word," Harry spat. Malfoy gave a twisted grin, unwilling to back down from the challenge.

"Excellent work, Mr Malfoy," Snape said coldly.

"Parkinson, move around more. He won't be able to-"

Harry felt panic, and he flung his arm out in a wide arc, his fingers extended. A wave of magic rushed out of him in his anger and the five Slytherins were disarmed. Harry flung himself around to confront Snape.

"You are abusing you position as a teacher," he hissed quietly. "Do you know what would happen if they went and told one of their Death Eater friends? Of course you do! If this is about revenge, Snape, then don't be such a coward." He raised his voice so that the rest of the class could hear. "If you wish to give a demonstration of proper duelling technique, do not waste our time with these idiots. I will duel _you_, Snape."

Snape smirked.

"Fortunately for you, Mr Potter, it is against school rules for a teacher to duel a student."

"Coward," Harry spat. "Let's finish this now, Snape. Give them all a bit of an education. Show them how a dirty Death Eater fights."

Snape paled.

"Harry," Hermione squeaked. Harry ignored her.

"Mr Potter," Snape said softly, his voice filled with malice. "_Fifty_ points from Gryffindor. _Lower_ your wand."

"_Conveo_!" Harry shouted, and Snape was forced to put up a shield. He looked livid.

"Potter!" he shouted.

"No!" Harry said. "Show them what it's like, Snape, in the real world, when it's just some piece of Death Eater scum versus the great Harry Potter. Let me show them what I'll do to them if they join Voldemort! _Convello_!"

Snape jumped out of the way just in time to miss the streak of red light that burned a hole in the wall.

"Harry, you idiot!" hissed Ron.

"Come on, _Snivellus_," Harry goaded. "Put some of you skill to use on something you want to for once! _Farugo_!"

"Very well, Potter, if you insist," Snape murmured. "On your head be it."

Harry's eyes flashed red for a split second in triumph before Snape cursed him, and he jumped aside to avoid it.

"_Gormis_!"

"_Tapa_!"

"_Stupefy_!"

Harry fought harder then than he had ever fought in his life and thanked every god he knew that none of the Death Eaters he had met so far had half the skill that Snape did. Harry took a step towards Snape, and then another. He was so mad. He was losing control. He couldn't do that now. Not in here, with all these students.

"_Imploro_!" Harry yelled. He had aimed true, and Snape flew backwards and hit the wall with a thump. "_Expelliarmus_!" Snape's wand flew from his hand and landed on the floor. He strolled slowly up to stand at Snape's feet, pointing his wand at the irate Professor.

His eyes glowed red and he felt his teeth protruding from his gums and past his lips.

"Do you yield?" he hissed, feeling the stares from the students behind him on his back. Snape was pale and quivering with anger, a slight red flush in his cheeks. No answer.

"Do you yield, Snape?"

"Careful, Potter," Snape hissed quietly. Harry sneered at him, and returned Snape to his feet with a wave of his wand.

"Grovelling does not become you, Snape. Why you would serve a man who killed your family I have no idea…"

Harry turned and stalked from the room. He ran, then, as fast as he could, his pounding feet echoing in the deserted corridors. What had he done? They would never forgive him.

**oOoOo**

Harry wandered the halls for hours that night. He hadn't returned to Gryffindor tower, or even attended classes since DADA. His books were still there, unless Ron or Hermione had brought them back.

Suddenly someone grabbed his arm and pulled him around.

"Malfoy," Harry spat.

"Quite a show you put on today, Potter."

Harry turned away and began walking.

"I found a way into the school," Malfoy called after him. Harry stopped. "I told him."

Harry turned around.

"I had no choice, He was going to-"

"Good," interrupted Harry.

"What? Good?" Malfoy spluttered.

"When the time comes, Malfoy, I hope you remember where your loyalties lay."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Congrats to the reviewer who picked out my reference to the Matrix! An excellent movie, though the sequels leave much to be desired… Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I think it was a bit iffy, but that's up to you to decide. Remember to review- Wujjawoo. **

**Chapter 30: Of Endings and Enemies**


	30. Of Endings and Enemies

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 30**

**Of Endings and Enemies**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

A/N: SensiblyTainted- Yes, Snape is on the light side, but him and Harry really don't get along. I think Snape was trying to get to Harry because Harry was putting his hands on his daughter. Bad Harry.

**oOoOo**

Today was the day, Harry thought, when everything would change. He stared stonily down at the letter in front of him.

_I want this back_, it said, followed by a rather cryptic message about tonight possibly being Snape's big show, and he would do well to watch the map. With a heavy heart, he signed it _Lord V'Ardian_.

It was easier to think that if he kept the two identities separate, it wasn't him.

He rolled the Marauder's map within the letter and attached them both to Hedwig's leg.

"Take this to Snape, girl," he said softly. He watched Hedwig fly off into the sunset. A moment later there was a crack behind him and Dobby appeared.

"Harry Potter, sir, Headmaster Dumbledore requests your presence at the Entrance Hall and asks that Harry Potter bring his Cloak."

Harry stared for a moment at the little elf with the big eyes and the big heart, and gave a small smile.

"Thankyou, Dobby. Tell him I'll be there in five minutes."

"Yes, Harry Potter, Dobby will do that."

There was another crack and Dobby disappeared.

Harry stood with a sigh and went to fetch his Cloak.

He met Ron and Hermione in the common room and sat down next to them.

"Hey guys."

"Hi, Harry," said Hermione.

"Hi, mate. Have you done that Charms essay yet or-"

"No, Ron, listen. I need to speak to you guys."

He saw Ron and Hermione exchange a glance. He sighed.

"Look, I know I went a bit crazy the other day with Snape, but I'm fine now. It's just, I'm going out with Dumbledore tonight, and I want you guys to stay in the tower okay?"

Another look.

"What are you going out with Dumbledore for?"

"I can't tell you. You just have to trust me, alright. I have to go. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Harry," said Hermione softly.

He hurried to meet Dumbledore.

**oOoOo**

"Ah, Harry, right on time. How are you this evening?"

"Good, thankyou, sir," said Harry. He didn't meet his eyes.

"You have your Cloak?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well, then, let us go. Can you apparate?"

Harry had managed to apparate once in their lessons so far, but he didn't feel confident. He couldn't use _his_ brand of apparition.

"I'm not that confident yet, sir."

"No matter. Once we get past the wards I shall assist you. Now let us be off."

They began walking.

"Where exactly are we going, sir?"

"To the place where Lord Voldemort took two young children as a child and tortured them. A cave, more specifically."

"Wasn't Tom Riddle at an orphanage, sir? How did he get to a cave?"

"The cave is a short distance from the village where the children from the orphanage holidayed once a year."

"Oh," said Harry.

"Here we are," said Dumbledore cheerily, coming to a stop outside the gates of Hogwarts. "Take my arm Harry, no need to hold on too hard, I am only guiding you."

Harry held Dumbledore's elbow, there was a lurching feeling, an unpleasant pressing against his eardrums, and they were standing on a blustery stretch of grass atop a cliff. The crescent moon was high in the sky.

_Poseidon's Reach_, Harry realised. _Voldemort hid a Horcrux here?_

"Come along, Harry," said Dumbledore, humming merrily. He headed for the path that trailed down the cliff. Harry followed him, and they stopped at the first entrance.

"No, not here," Dumbledore said, and began walking again. The path wound steadily lower, getting steeper and steeper. It ended abruptly, some twenty metres above the heaving ocean.

"We must climb," Dumbledore said and, rather sprightly for a man so old, swung down over the edge of the cliff and began descending the slippery rocks. Harry waited a moment and followed him. It was hard going, and Harry marvelled at the fact that a young Tom Riddle had managed the climb, before remembering that he had probably used magic.

"Ah," Dumbledore said again, and Harry nearly slipped when he saw that Dumbledore had stopped. "I am afraid we shall have to swim, Harry."

Without further ado, Dumbledore dropped into the churning sea and struck out along the base of the cliff with a perfect breast stroke. Stemming any feelings of guilt before they could make themselves known, Harry scrambled down the slippery rocks and dropped into the cold water. With a gasp at the chill, he followed Dumbledore into a small cave. He heaved him up onto a ledge and Dumbledore cast a drying charm on him.

"Before we go any further, Harry, I shall have to ask you to promise me that you will do whatever I ask you to, whether it be to run, to hide, or to do something you do not wish. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry.

"Very well. Let us go on."

Inside the cave, Dumbledore paced around the walls, stopping occasionally to touch the wall, murmur, and then moving on. Ten minutes later he let out another, "Ah."

"Is this it, sir?"

"This is how we get in, yes."

"How, sir?"

"A moment, please, Harry," Dumbledore murmured, running his hands lightly over a bit of stone wall.

"Ah, how predictable," Dumbledore whispered. "Yet disappointing."

"Sir?"

"I believe Voldemort requires anyone who wishes to enter to give a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice?"

"Of blood, I believe. How crude. Riddle never did understand that there are worse things than pain and death."

Dumbledore pulled back his sleeve and drew a short silver knife from his pocket. He held it to his forearm.

"No, sir, let me-"

But Dumbledore drew the blade across his skin and blood sprayed against the wall. He drew his wand and healed the cut. The stone dissolved into an archway and Dumbledore looked back at Harry.

"I believe, Harry that your blood is quite a bit more essential than mine, don't you agree."

Harry nodded dumbly and followed Dumbledore into the doorway. For some reason the comment had stung him deeply.

They followed the narrow ledge into the darkness of the cave, and they lit their wands. Inside the cave, the water lay green and still, lit unnaturally from beneath. A luminescent glow came from the centre of the salty lake.

"Is that the Horcrux, sir?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Harry, I believe so."

"How are we supposed to get it? Can't we just summon it?"

"You could try it, I suppose," said Dumbledore. Harry raised his wand.

"Accio Horcrux," he said firmly. Something splashed out near the centre before disappearing again, and ripples disappeared unnaturally fast, leaving the surface as placid and still as before.

"As I thought. We shall have to cross." They continued along the ledge and Dumbledore stopped so suddenly that Harry nearly ran into the back of him. Dumbledore turned to face the water and reached out his arm, hand scrabbling in the air.

"Aha," he said brightly. "Here we are."

He leaned out over the lake, feet just scraping the ledge and hanging from something invisible. There was a grinding, clanking sound, and suddenly a chain materialised in Dumbledore's hand. He yanked down on it hard and tapped it with his wand, and it began threading through his hand. Out of the depths, Harry saw a black object rising up, and a thin bridge appeared, linking them to the small glowing island in the centre.

"It doesn't look like it will hold both of us, sir," said Harry.

"I do not think it will matter, Harry. I think the bridge will measure the amount of magic within a person, not their weight. I also believe that he will not have expected one so young as you to make it so far, and as you are underage, you will not matter. We shall be fine."

With that, Dumbledore said off across the flimsy looking bridge, and Harry followed him. True to Dumbledore's belief, they made it across unharmed, but Harry wasn't so sure that Dumbledore's reasoning had been correct.

"Sir shouldn't it be harder than this?" he asked, looking down at a silver chalice that was filled with clear green liquid.

"Yes, Harry, I think we shall encounter more problems. Only Voldemort himself would be able to retrieve his Horcrux unharmed. Now quiet, please, I need to think."

Dumbledore stood, considering the chalice and the small goblet that stood next to it. He reached out a hand that seemed to be met half way with an irresistible force, and exhaled slowly.

"I believe he means for us to drink it, Harry," Dumbledore said softly.

"Let me do it, sir," Harry said instantly. Dumbledore had said that only Tom Riddle would be able to reach his Horcrux unharmed. But what if Harry had a part of Tom Riddle in him, as he was so sure he did? Deep inside him, surrounded and sheltered by his own, lay the malignant magic that Harry had extracted from both Dumbledore and Tonks. Surely if he released it, just a little, he would be able to get the Horcrux?

"No, Harry, I shall do it. Do you remember what you promised me? That you would do whatever I asked, immediately?"

"Yes sir," Harry said resignedly. Dumbledore picked up the small silver goblet.

"I must ask that if at any time I cease drinking, you shall force me to go on, even if it means having to grab me and force it down my throat."

Harry sighed.

"Yes sir, I will."

"Very good," said Dumbledore quietly, and without further ado, he plunged the silver goblet into the chalice and filled it to the brim. He brought it quickly to his lips, and Harry watched it slip into his mouth, as smooth as quicksilver.

He repeated the action quickly, and then a third time, but then Harry saw that his hand was trembling and his breath was coming in short bursts.

"Please…" murmured Dumbledore. "Please…don't make me…"

"Keep going, sir," said Harry firmly, and Dumbledore obeyed him silently, plunging the goblet into the half-empty chalice. He swallowed the mouthful and fell to his knees, the goblet clanging on the stone floor.

"No! Take me, please, not them!" Dumbledore wailed. Harry knelt next to him and picked up the goblet, blocking out Dumbledore's ravings. No matter how much the man had hurt him, he found that he still couldn't bear to see him like this.

Harry plunged the goblet into the green liquid and held it to Dumbledore's pale face and watched it swim over his bloodless lips. Dumbledore began to cough and splutter, pushing Harry away from him.

"Another one, sir," Harry said quickly. "We're nearly there."

Dumbledore obediently swallowed the proffered drink, but now he began trembling violently, muttering incoherent phrases.

"Come on, Professor," said Harry, filling the goblet again.

He sighed as Dumbledore slumped back against his arm as he drained the goblet. His eyes rolled back into his head. Harry filled the goblet again and felt it scrape the bottom.

"Last one, sir," he said. Dumbledore's mouth sagged open and Harry poured it in slowly. Dumbledore coughed some of it up, but then it was all gone. Dumbledore closed his eyes, muttering quietly, and Harry laid him gently on the floor with a sigh. He checked his pulse to make sure he was still breathing, but suddenly something grabbed his leg from behind. He spun around to see countless Inferi, groping hands preceding them out of the water. He threw out his arm, not bothering to grab his wand.

"Incendio," he murmured. The slimy had slipped off his leg and the owner uttered an odd gurgling sound, before the Inferi slipped under the water once more and it became still and motionless. Dumbledore stirred at his side.

"Sir," said Harry, going to him.

"Help me up, Harry," said Dumbledore hoarsely, and Harry gripped his upper arm and hauled him to his feet. Leaning on Harry for support, Dumbledore reached into the chalice and pulled out a pendant, silver in appearance. Harry watched emotionlessly as Dumbledore thrust it quickly into his robes, breathing heavily.

"I shall need you to lead me, Harry," said Dumbledore, and Harry nodded.

Their going was slow, but they finally made it out to the door. This time Harry cut himself before Dumbledore could protest and they passed through the stone archway. After all, it was the least he could do.

They reached the heaving swell of the ocean, and Dumbledore motioned to the water.

"We must return to the path above. We cannot apparate from here."

Harry frowned in concern, and Dumbledore saw the look.

"Do not worry, Harry, I shall be fine. You may go first."

With a quick nod, Harry lowered himself into the frigid water and struck out for their destination. It was harder going this way; the current pushed them back the way they had come, and it was a good ten minutes before Harry reached in exhaustion for the rock cliff. He pulled himself slowly out of the cold water and heaved himself up to the path. Dumbledore came afterwards even slower, and Harry reached down to grab the back of his robes and pull him up. Dumbledore slumped with a sigh against the cliff face and closed his eyes.

"I… must rest for a moment, Harry. I do not think I can make it back just yet."

"That's alright, sir," said Harry loudly. "I can take us."

Without waiting for permission, Harry grasped the weary man's arm and focussed on the town of Hogsmeade. Dumbledore landed with a thump and Harry fought to keep him upright.

"Well done," wheezed Dumbledore. A moment later the door to the Three Broomsticks burst open and Madam Rosmerta came running out, night gown flapping around her ankles.

"Albus!" she gasped. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine, Rosmerta. We are simply on our way back to Hogwarts from a tiresome journey-"

"You mean you haven't been there?" asked Madam Rosmerta with a gasp.

"What do you mean?" asked Dumbledore, startled.

"The Dark Mark, Albus. It's been seen above the school!"

Dumbledore straightened at once.

"We must go immediately."

"I have brooms that you can use," said Rosmerta. "I'll get them for you."

"No, no, Harry can get them," said Dumbledore quickly.

Harry raised his wand.

"Accio Madam Rosmerta's brooms!" he called out.

Two brooms flew towards them and Harry clambered onto his.

Madam Rosmerta helped Dumbledore onto his and Harry cast a binding charm to keep him there.

They rose swiftly into the sky, and immediately saw the Dark Mark hanging over the Astronomy tower. Dumbledore landed first, and then Harry, stumbling against the battlements with a thump. Noises echoed up through the door from below.

"Cloak, Harry," whispered Dumbledore, leaning against the wall for support.

Harry threw it on quickly, and no sooner had he done that than a charm hit him and he froze, immobile.

He saw Dumbledore slip down the wall slightly, his wand falling from his grasp, and a second later Draco Malfoy burst through the door, wand raised.

"Accio wand!" he called, and Dumbledore's wand flew towards him.

"Hello, Draco," said Dumbledore politely, and his voice was no longer hoarse and weak, but strong and confident.

"Shut up!" snarled Malfoy, his face twisting into a sneer.

"It is not too late, Draco, to change sides. I know you are not bad at heart. I can help you."

"Shut up!" Malfoy yelled again. "How dare you speak to me that way, when I have you at my mercy?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, and Harry saw Malfoy's wand drop slightly.

"I can help you, Draco, and your mother if that is your wish. Even your father, if he should so choose."

Malfoy sneered again, a flush tinging his cheeks pink.

"I don't need _your _help, Dumbledore. I have made it this far on my own. It was _I_ who found the way into the school, I who told the Dark Lord all he needed to know."

"And how did you get into the school, Draco?" asked Dumbledore. "Are there other Death Eaters here?"

"Yes," spat Malfoy. Harry heard fighting in the stairwell and wondered who was winning. Malfoy's face took on a smug smile. "That vanishing cabinet. When Montague got stuck in it he said that sometimes he was at Hogwarts and sometimes he was at Borgin and Burkes. There's two of the, you see, and they form a kind of connection. I fixed them. It was all _me_."

Dumbledore smiled, infuriating Malfoy.

"I commend you on your ingenuity, Draco. I admit, I was unaware that such a way into the school existed. You were very clever."

Malfoy sneered.

"Do not think that I will spare your life just because you compliment me, Dumbledore. I have a job to do, and I will do it."

"My dear boy," said Dumbledore, his voice holding a hint of reproach. "I knew that you were set this task. I have been watching you all year. I have seen you fail, time and time again with useless ploys. You were so desperate…"

Dumbledore slipped down the battlements further, his head hanging at an odd angle.

"Shut up!" Malfoy screamed. "I have succeeded and the Dark Lord will reward me beyond nay others once I kill you!"

"Draco, if you truly intended to kill me, you would have done it by now."

Harry saw the defeated look that crept over Malfoy's face, and his arm fell to his side. At that moment the door burst open and Snape entered the room, followed by four Death Eaters. Harry saw his eyes take in the two brooms and dart around the room. One of the Death Eaters chortled.

"Oh, it's Dumbledore, look at that, and he's completely defenceless."

The witched at his side giggled with mirth.

Dumbledore smiled slowly, inclining his head.

"Amycus. I see you've brought Alecto, too."

The third Death Eater, with long, dirty nails spoke up. He was covered in blood.

"Don't let him distract you, Draco. Do the job and let's get out of here."

Malfoy didn't move, his eyes riveted to Dumbledore's face.

Dumbledore looked at the Death Eater who had spoken.

"Is that you, Fenrir? Feeding without the full moon now, are you?"

Fenrir laughed.

"Can't deny what I am, Dumbledore," he laughed harshly.

"Enough," snapped Snape, finally speaking up. "This is what you came here to do, Draco. Kill him."

Malfoy didn't move, though his wand arm flinched slightly.

"Severus," pleaded Dumbledore, and Harry saw the silent communication between the two.

"Very well," Snape growled, his face pale. He raised his wand.

"Avada Keda-"

In that moment, Harry broke the spell binding him in place and stunned the four Death Eaters that stood behind Snape and Malfoy.

"Stop!" he commanded, pulling his Cloak from his body. Snape's wand flew from his hand and landed in Harry's.

"Harry," said Dumbledore weakly.

"Potter!" spat Snape. Harry stepped next to Draco and gave him a long, searching look. They boy looked completely defeated. Harry turned to Dumbledore and raised his wand.

"Harry, what are you doing?" asked Dumbledore, despair and surprise on his face. Harry swallowed. It would have been so much easier if Dumbledore had died in that cave, so much easier.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said, his voice cracking slightly. "I truly am."

"What are you talking about, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes wide with shock.

"Yes, what, Potter?" snapped Snape.

Harry swallowed and licked his dry lips.

"It was me," he said, "who told Voldemort that you would be away from Hogwarts tonight. I told him to attack."

Harry heard Snape draw in a sharp breath. Dumbledore's face was pale.

"Why, Harry?" whispered Dumbledore, his voice filled with despair. "Why did you do it? You don't have to, you know. You are the only one who can-"

"I know, sir. And I will kill him."

"Then why?" whispered Dumbledore. He was slumped low over the battlements, now. The sight was pathetic, and Harry almost could stand seeing the great wizard there like that.

"It was you who told me I couldn't escape my destiny, Dumbledore."

Harry let his eyes go red and his teeth slip past his lips and he saw Dumbledore's eyes widen in understanding.

"Harry-"

"Avada Kedavra," Harry whispered, unleashing Voldemort's magic from inside of him. There was a flash of green light, and Dumbledore hung suspended in the air for a second before he was propelled backwards over the battlements. Harry watched the space where he had fallen for a moment and lowered his wand. He turned to Snape and Malfoy.

Malfoy took a step backwards.

"You bastard!" he spat. "You lied to me! Who are you?"

Harry stared at him in sorrow.

"I? I am Lord V'Ardian, Draco."

"So this is what you had planned, Potter?" asked Snape, his lips quivering in fury. "To kill the headmaster?"

"It was about to happen anyway," Harry said. "And we don't have time to talk. The Order is fighting there way up here as we speak."

Suddenly there was a sound to Harry's left and a fist collided with the side of his head. He reeled sideways as his vision blacked out, holding out an arm for support. He scrambled to his feet and rounded on his attacker.

"You bastard!" screamed Malfoy, as an angry tear slipped down his cheek. "We had a deal! How could you do this to me?"

"What is this, Draco?" asked Snape quickly, looking between the two of them. Harry sneered.

"You hardly held up your end, Malfoy," he spat. "And I would hardly expect an ally to take advantage of my disabilities." He shot a look at Snape.

"If you want to help, leave now. I need someone close to him and with Dumbledore's death you _will_ be close to him."

"You want me to take credit for his murder?" asked Malfoy in disbelief.

"Yes, Draco, that is what I am asking. It won't be for long; I will end this quickly, I promise you, but you must go now."

Malfoy nodded slowly, unhappily.

"I cannot leave," he whispered.

Harry turned to him.

"I will protect her," he said quietly. "I promise you."

Snape sneered slightly, but it held no malice, and he inclined his head slightly and swept from the room. Malfoy took one last look at Harry and followed the Potions Master out.

Harry waited a moment before raising his wand to his throat and muttering, "Sonorus."

He took a deep breath. When he spoke his voice echoed through the castle.

"By the authority of the one called Lord Voldemort, I, the Lord of V'Ardian, hereby command all followers of the Dark Lord to return to their master. Your job is done."

Harry cancelled the spell and began running. He ran down the now empty stairway, past the bodies of unconscious Death Eaters and Order members. He pelted through the Great Hall and into the Entrance hall in time to see Snape and Malfoy running through it, and he followed them out onto the grass. He felt a lurch in his stomach as he saw Katherine in the shadows, her face pale as she watched her father flee from Hogwarts. He turned his gaze from her and watched as Snape and Malfoy passed the lake, the last of the Death Eaters to leave Hogwarts. The Dark Mark floated high, and Harry saw its green light cast over a group of people gathering at the base of the Astronomy tower.

Fighting down the sickened feeling, he walked slowly towards them and they parted before him, as if he had some kind of right to be the one to see him first. Some people were crying, and someone said his name, but his eyes were riveted to the man on the ground. Dumbledore lay on his back, eyes closed, and were it not for the odd angle of his leg, he could have been sleeping. Harry knelt next to him, his throat constricting so hard that it was painful.

There were whispers behind him, the rumours of who had been his murderer already flying. Snape, some said, even Malfoy. Harry would agree, later on, simply to preserve the charade that he had so successfully engineered. Now, though, he was acutely aware of what he had done, and he shifted his eyes from Dumbledore's lined face.

He reached out a hand, and saw that it was shaking, and plunged it into the folds of Dumbledore's robe. His hand sought out the locket, and he felt the rough links of the chain against his palm. He drew it out and stood, pushing it deep into his pocket without looking at it.

He wished he had just let Dumbledore die when he had been sick.

A shrill gasp came from behind him.

"Mr Potter! Is that the headmaster?"

Harry turned around to see Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," he said hollowly. "It is."

McGonagall raise a hand to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Who?" she whispered.

"It was Malfoy," said Harry. "Malfoy and Snape."

His gaze darted sideways to where Katherine stood in the shadows. He lowered his head to the ground as he listened to the gasps of horror and indignation rippling through the surrounding people.

"I have to go, Professor," he murmured. Professor McGonagall didn't answer, but brushed past him and knelt at Dumbledore's side. There were people shouting through the darkness now.

"Dumbledore's dead! Snape killed him! Dumbledore is dead!"

Harry joined Katherine in the shadows and she flung herself into his arms.

_She's going to hate me. She's never going to forgive me_.

"It wasn't him," Harry said softly. "It wasn't."

Katherine shook her head into his chest.

"Who was it then?"

Harry swallowed hard and stepped back from her.

"I did."

Shock passed across her face, quickly followed by anger.

"_You_ killed Dumbledore?" she spat. She sneered at him. "How could you do such a thing?"

Harry stepped back from her further and smiled sadly. He looked up at the sky.

"Answer me!" she spat, stepping towards him. He looked steadily back at her, his eyes sad.

"Because it was the only way, Katherine," he said softly. "Dumbledore took a lot from me, but I had no wish to kill him. I told you about the prophecy, but I don't expect you to understand, and I'm sorry that you can't."

She shook her head slowly and Harry left.

**oOoOo**

It was decided, with much stubbornness and argument on McGonagall's part, that Hogwarts would remain open, if only because it was advocated by the new Minister for Magic.

The last two weeks of school passed quickly, exams came and went, and the day finally came for them to return to their homes. Harry sat on his bed, fingering the now worn and creased message that had been clasped inside the Horcrux. It hadn't been a Horcrux, in the end. Someone else had got there first, and replaced it with a useless necklace and a note to Voldemort.

It angered him that Dumbledore had gone through what he had for nothing. His eyes were drawn to the initials at the bottom of the note.

_R.A.B._

He thought he knew who it was. He hoped he was right. He thought he might even know where the locket was now secreted, if it had not been destroyed. With a sigh, Harry put the message back in the locket and pushed both deep into his pocket.

He swung out of his bed and closed the lid of his trunk.

The other boys were down in the common room; nearly everyone was. He sighed again. Increasingly of late, he had been torn between fits of rage, where he wanted topunch and yell, and bouts of sadness and depression. He hadn't spoken to Katherine since that night, though he would have to do so today, to tell her that she would be going to Grimmauld Place with him. He didn't think she had forgiven him for what he had done, and he wasn't sure he expected her to. He wouldn't tell anyone else, at least not for a while. He wouldn't be able to stand it if Ron and Hermione shied away from him, or Emily.

He smiled. Emily, he thought, was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to him. Maybe, he thought, this was what the prophecy referred to, when it said that he would be strengthened by blood of the same.

Harry looked over to the Daily prophet that sat on his bedside table. For two weeks now, the Daily Prophet had run front page portraits of Snape and Malfoy, and a number of other Death Eaters. Harry wondered how Katherine was. He had meant to go see her; had made it as far as the entrance to the Slytherin common room before he had lost his courage and turned back.

Quelling the urge to sigh again, he covered himself in his Invisibility Cloak and headed for the staircase. He bypassed the excited crowd in the common room and slipped out of the portrait hole, heading for the dungeons. He only had to wait for a minute before a group of first years came out, and he slipped in before the doorway sealed.

He scanned the room and found Katherine far corner, hidden behind the Daily Prophet.

Navigating carefully through the older Slytherins who sat in dignified poses, Harry made his way to her side. Lancing furtively around, Harry cleared his throat quickly. Katherine's gaze darted off the page and he felt sorry for startling her. Her gaze narrowed.

"Go away, Harry," she whispered angrily, pulling the newspaper closer to hide her face.

"I need to talk to you, Katherine," he said. "Where do you think you're going to go during the holidays?"

"I was intending to go to my father's house," she said stiffly.

"You can't be serious, Katherine. You know full well that it isn't safe," he hissed quietly. "I promised your father I would look after you, and I'm going to. You can come to Grimmauld Place."

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said quietly.

"Emily will be there," said Harry.

Finally Katherine acquiesced, her gaze hard.

"Fine," she said. "Now will you please go?"

Harry spun angrily on his heel and marched out of the common room and back to Gryffindor tower. Halfway there he remembered he had to speak to Professor McGonagall, and headed instead to the headmaster's office.

He pulled off his Cloak as he ascended the staircase and knocked on the door.

"Enter," said McGonagall crisply. "Mr Potter," she said in surprise, when she saw him.

"Professor," he said. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be staying at Grimmauld Place during the holidays, and I wanted to know who the new Secret Keeper is, now that…"

"Of course," she replied, her nostrils flaring slightly at the reference to Dumbledore. "When a Secret Keeper dies, the responsibility is passed on to the owner of the dwelling. In this case, that would be you. That is something I wanted to talk to you about. If you wish to change, I can-"

"No, Professor," Harry cut her off. "That's fine. I also wanted to let you know that my sister will also be coming with me, and another student, as well."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Another student, Mr Potter?"

"Katherine Winters, Professor. She's friends with my sister, and her father is away. I just thought I'd let you know."

"Mr Potter, you cannot simply let any person into that house!" she said angrily. It surprised Harry somewhat that she did not know Katherine's true identity, but he supposed it was safer that way. "She may not be trustworthy. She is a Slytherin."

Harry bristled.

"I assure you, Professor, that she is far more trustworthy than many of the other people the Order lets into that house, and as it is my house I may let in whomever I like."

McGonagall frowned.

"Don't take that tone with me, Mr Potter. I just hope you understand what you are doing."

"Yes, Professor," he said. "I am perfectly aware of the consequences of _all_ of my actions."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update, but I have so much work to do! Thanks to all those who reviewed. Reviews make me happy :) I had some questions about why Snape and Harry keep each others secret and then fight. I thought I explained this, but if you didn't get it, then it's like this: Snape and Harry keep each other's secrets because they're kind of blackmailing each other. If one of them tells the other's secret, the other can easily tell their secret. They also both understand that they need to put their animosity aside to achieve victory, and their silence goes towards 'the greater good'. Remember to review- Wujjawoo. **

**Chapter 31: Of Grimmauld and Ghosts**


	31. Of Grimmauld and Ghosts

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 31**

**Of Grimmauld and Ghosts**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

A/N: Nearly three weeks between my last two updates! I'm so sorry but I just haven't had time to post my stuff. I promise I'll try to get it back to one week or less :) I had some questions about why Harry would kill Dumbledore. I apologise profusely if I did not make this clear enough. It was because of the prophecy. Just about the only thing keeping Voldemort from winning is Dumbledore. The prophecy says that Harry will restore Voldemort to the height of his power. For that to happen Dumbledore had to die and Harry had to do it. If you don't like it, then too bad, cos that's the story. Harry isn't evil, per se, but he's in control of some pretty evil magic and has to do some pretty evil stuff. He doesn't like it though, so he's still good.

**oOoOo**

The first three days in Grimmauld Place were stressful. Harry was tired, Katherine was upset, and Emily was thoroughly sick of being the go-between. She was torn between wanting to comfort her best friend, finding out what was wrong with her brother, and telling them to pull their heads out and sort out their issues.

Things finally came to a head on the fifth day, when Emily demanded that they talk. She seated them at the dining room table across from each other and sat between them.

"Now I don't know about you two," she said, "but I would prefer my holidays to be enjoyable. What could possibly be so bad that you refuse to talk to each other?"

Harry looked down at the table. No matter how else he felt, he was thankful that she had not told Emily of what had happened.

"Well?" demanded Emily when neither of them answered her.

"Why don't you tell her, Harry," said Katherine, in a tone that was halfway to being icy but didn't have the heart. Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

"It wasn't Snape who killed Dumbledore," he said. "It wasn't even Malfoy."

Emily rolled her eyes.

"I know Severus didn't do it. But if it wasn't Malfoy then who was it?"

Harry glanced briefly at Emily, his eyes searching her face. He didn't want to tell her, but the time had come and he wouldn't lie.

"I did," he said softly. "I killed Dumbledore."

Emily blinked and gave a short, humourless laugh, which stopped as soon as she saw the look on Katherine's face.

"Katherine, is it true?"

Katherine nodded, looking down at her hand and biting her lip. Emily looked shell shocked.

"How could you, Harry?" she asked, her gaze angry and disappointed. Harry couldn't look at her.

He related the tale of the two prophecies.

"Dumbledore would have died that night, regardless of who did it, but it had to be me for this war to end quickly. Snape made an Unbreakable Vow to Malfoy's mother to finish the job if Malfoy couldn't do it, and I did it to save either of them from taking his life."

"And you're a vampire?" Emily asked slowly, her expression unsure.

Harry nodded. Emily turned to Katherine.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked her. Katherine reached out and they grasped each other's hands.

"I'm sorry, Em," she whispered. "I promised I wouldn't."

And then they were both crying and hugging each other, and Harry felt more cut off than he ever had before. He stood unnoticed and left the room quickly. Unshed tears blurred his vision and he wiped them angrily away. He slammed the door of his room and went straight to his trunk, ripping out the journal. He found a quill and ripped open the cover.

_Who are you?_ He wrote angrily, his script spiky and agitated, the nib of the quill ripping cruelly into the page. A flowing script answered his inquiry, snaking gracefully across the page.

_This is the book of the Dead_, it said. _What is your name?_

Harry stared in shock at the page. The book of the Dead?

_My name is of no consequence, _he wrote. _What is this book used for?_

_It is a means of contacting the Dead. Long ago there were other uses for it, but I suspect they have long been forgotten. _

_Can I contact anyone? _Harry wrote, his heart pounding in excitement.

_No,_ the book replied, and Harry's heart sunk. _Only those who have unfinished business in the physical realm or have knowledge of this journal may seek it out and use it. _

Harry sighed, determined to finish the job that Dumbledore and R.A.B. had started.

_I need to speak with Regulus Black_, Harry wrote. The book seemed to pause for a second, and suddenly the pages began flipping over, so fast that they blurred. Thousands of pages seemed to pass; far more than he had first thought were in the thin journal. The pages slowed, stopped, and a neat cursive script greeted him.

_I am Regulus Black_, it said.

Harry wasted no time in extracting the information he wanted.

_Why were you killed by Lord Voldemort?_

_Because I betrayed him. I had come to learn of his Horcruxes, and I set out to destroy him. _

_How many did you destroy?_

_Only one. The Dark Lord stored part of his soul within the castle of Hogwarts, and this is the one I found first. I came upon a second, but my life was taken before I could dispose of it. _

_Yes, I know where it is._

_You are seeking them as well? You wish to destroy him?_

_Yes. _

_I only know of the two that I found. There are six. _

_I think I know where the others are. You don't have to worry about that. _

The journal seemed to radiate approval.

_Good. _

_I have to go now_, Harry wrote.

_Farewell, then, and good luck. I hope I do not see you soon. _

_Thankyou. Tell your brother that his godson misses him. _

Harry closed the book before Regulus could reply and breathed a deep sigh, closing his eyes. He laid the journal in his trunk and closed the lid, casting a secure locking charm. Hesitating for only a second, he opened the door and descended the stairs.

He passed the entrance to the kitchen but did not look in; he could hear Katherine and Emily talking in low voices and did not wish to disturb them. Instead he turned to the door opposite that of the kitchen and opened it slowly. He entered the dark room and closed the door behind him. He could feel it more, now that he was aware of it; the malevolent presence that he had encountered when he had been in here with Tonks. His gaze went straight to the alabaster bust in the corner and he strode over to it, taking in the locket and matching earrings. He strode over to it and, taking a deep breath, removed the locket from around the neck.

A tingle of familiarity shot through his hands. He could feel the magic surrounding it, the same magic that resided within him. He wondered how to destroy it. He sent a locking charm at the door and placed the locket on a small table. Searching the room, he found a large stone paperweight. He raised it high above his head and brought it crashing down, but as soon as it came within a foot of the locket it seemed to slip sideways and hit the table with a loud bang.

Having not really expected that to work, Harry shot a Reductor curse at it, but the locket proved to be Impervious. He tried prying it open, but that, too, proved futile, as it was clasped tightly shut. Frowning, he swung himself into a chair and picked up the locket, rubbing his thumb over the shiny surface. He wondered how Dumbledore had destroyed the ring, and then suddenly it struck him. Dumbledore had injured his hand when he had destroyed the Horcrux, injured it because he had been wearing it. This brought Harry up short. Remembering the state of Dumbledore's hand, he was weary of putting it around his neck.

Steeling himself as he realised that it was the only way, Harry slipped the fine golden chain over his head. The effect was instantaneous. He was immersed in a sea of pain, and he sank blindly to the floor, trying fruitlessly to remove the locket from his person. How was it possible that the diary had been destroyed so easily, yet this locket was causing him so much pain? Perhaps the younger Voldemort who had created the Horcrux from the diary had not yet discovered the joys of inflicting pain on others.

Harry clawed at the locket, and found that it now opened with ease. Instinctively he brought it close to his face and saw the photograph that lay within it. It was a woman, and although she was not beautiful, Harry thought he could see a resemblance to the young Tom Riddle. He wondered if it were his mother.

With a gasp, Harry wrenched the locket over his head, realising just how stupid he had been. He had no idea how to destroy the Horcrux.

He stared at it for a moment before realising- he could not destroy it, but he could transfer its properties. Harry let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. He let his magic seep out of his chest and fold over the locket, and there it fought with Voldemort's magic and Voldemort's soul. Harry felt the physicality of the locket and the magic, and he separated the two, and suddenly Voldemort's soul was free, and only Harry kept it from returning to its owner.

Hurriedly he confined it within himself, placing it with the other extracts of Voldemort's magic. He felt the change within himself, because he had experienced it before and it was familiar to him. It changed him on such a basic level that if he had not secreted it away he would have become a different person.

He opened his eyes and flung the locket away, staring at it where it lay. The malignant presence no longer dominated the room. He could feel it inside himself now.

He stood, feeling an abrupt desire for fresh air, and fled the house. He ran through the garden, passing the bridge and the stream, and the flower whose petals were now shut, and sat on the bench in the clearing. He lowered his head into his hand with a sigh running one through his hair. He felt sick; shuddered at the thought that he had willingly ingested a piece of Voldemort.

He felt like he was drowning.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: A short chapter, I know. And a while since I updated, too. Sorry. I can't decide if I have too much to do or if I'm not organised enough. I think sometimes it's one and sometimes it's the other. I'm truly sorry to the people who are disappointed at Dumbledore's death. Actually, I take that back. When I read HBP I wasn't quite happy with the way it happened, but in this situation I found it fitting. And I really hate how Snape killed him. I was very disappointed in that. Who else thought that? Remember to review! I'm working on another story at the moment, a sequel to The Strength of White. Read them. They're both one-shots, but quite long. I think they're my best so far. Despite this, my next chapter should come quicker- Wujjawoo. **

**Chapter 32: Of Seventh Year and Secrets**


	32. Of Seventh Year and Secrets

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 32**

**Of Seventh Year and Secrets**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

A/N: Some people asked about how Harry had changed when he got a bit of Voldemort's soul. Well, the answer is - not much. Harry's soul is Harry's soul, and Voldemort's is separate. But don't worry- I'll get into it a bit later. Also, Harry is not going to be evil! Sorry for all those who wanted him to be, but Harry's just too much of a goody-goody for that to happen- Wujjawoo.

**oOoOo**

The summer holidays passed all too slowly for Harry. He couldn't stand just _waiting_, for that was what he had to do. Only when he was back at Hogwarts would he be able to complete what Dumbledore and Regulus Black had begun. Half of him wished that it was all over, and time would just hurry the hell up and move more quickly, but the other half of him wished that it would stop altogether and he would never have to face his destiny.

It came as a surprise to him when the letters from Hogwarts arrived and he found himself with a badge that said Head Boy. He felt guilty. He thought about his father and how he had been Head Boy.

The Weasleys came to stay, and other members of the Order, and Harry kept mostly to himself. Ron confronted him over the presence of the filthy Slytherin, but Harry just told him he had his reasons and that she was trustworthy. He didn't speak to anyone much. He avoided Katherine and Emily, and they him, though they all loathed the gap between them.

He had no doubt that they would sort it out eventually.

Two days before they were due to return to school, Harry again found himself on the bench in the garden. He was sitting staring at the ground when he felt a presence across the clearing, and when the bushes rustled he looked up to see Katherine there. With a small smile and without meeting his eyes she came to sit next to him. She didn't say anything, and he wondered why she was even there.

"We met here, remember," he said eventually, feeling stupid for being so sentimental. Sentimentality was such a simple and foreign emotion that it felt almost wrong for him to be feeling it.

"I remember," she murmured in her matter-of-fact way. They stared at their respective patches of ground for a bit longer.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," Katherine ventured after a few minutes. She went on when Harry didn't answer. "I'm disappointed, I won't pretend I'm not, but…I know you had to do it. I think that's what I'm disappointed about, not the fact that you actually killed him. So I'm sorry for being mad, and Emily is as well and…I love you."

Harry smiled despite himself. It felt good to be forgiven.

He stood up and held out a hand, drawing her to her feet. They strolled along a path, away from the house, hand in hand. They talked about small, silly things, and Harry suspected that she was trying to keep his mind off of things. He was glad for it.

"I got a letter from my dad," she said abruptly. She looked sad, but Harry looked at her sharply.

"He shouldn't do that! What if someone intercepted it? You could be in danger!"

Katherine smiled sadly again.

"He said I was in enough danger being around you, Harry. And he's not stupid; he knows how to hide things."

"I hope so," said Harry softly, staring into the trees. Covering the ground between the tree trunks and shrubs was a bed of white flowers, and Harry recognised them from the night in the park. He shivered and put an arm around Katherine, drawing her closer.

She saw where he was looking.

"What's wrong?"

He flashed a brilliant smile at her.

"Nothing's wrong."

It had been a long time since he had thought about that night, but suddenly it all came back to him and he felt a flash of frustration.

"Let's just go back to the house."

She frowned at him, but turned with him and they started back along the path.

"I have some potion back up at the house," she said. "You might feel a bit better afterwards."

And she was right. He did feel happier, but the frustration lingered. He didn't want to have to rely on this for the rest of his life.

**oOoOo**

The next day the Weasley's and a few other members of the Order arrived to stay. They celebrated his birthday, and Emily's too, but it wasn't the same. He had been a vampire for a year. He felt cut off from everyone else, as though he had no right to be amongst such good people. He brushed off the questions about Katherine's presence and ignored Ron's complaints about her being an untrustworthy Slytherin, and before he knew it the holidays were over.

As they packed their trunks into the Ministry cars and set off, Harry felt a looming anxiety fill his chest, but it seemed to give relief. He knew that soon it would all be over.

"It's not going to be the same without Dumbledore," lamented Ron. Harry looked out the window at the platform. "And we probably won't be able to do _anything_. There'll be all new restrictions and curfews. Mum said that they nearly decided not to open Hogwarts again."

"That's ridiculous," said Hermione. "Hogwarts _is_ the safest place to be, even if Dumbledore isn't there. Besides, how are we supposed to defend ourselves if we don't learn anything?"

"Are you going to keep the DA going Harry?" asked Emily.

"You should, Harry," said Hermione seriously. "Goodness knows what teacher we'll get. I heard Professor Sinistra quit because Dumbledore's is there to protect the school, so I imagine it would have been really difficult to fins a teacher."

"I was planning to keep it going," said Harry, his mind flicking briefly to one of its members.

"Good," said Ron, "because I think we're going to need it."

"So do I," murmured Harry. "So do I."

The train pulled out of the station and Hermione and Ron jumped to their feet.

"We'll see you two later," said Hermione. "We have to go to the Prefect meeting." Harry looked guiltily at Emily and stood up.

"Ah…so do I."

Hermione and Ron gaped at him.

"McGonagall made you a Prefect?" Ron asked, uncomprehending.

"Er, kind of," Harry muttered.

"Head Boy," Emily put in. Harry scowled at her, but his view was blocked a second later by a joyous Hermione, as she lunged forward and hugged him.

"Congratulations, Harry!" she squealed. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Harry shrugged.

"Slipped my mind," he mumbled. Hermione stood back, looking annoyed.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry. He looked over at Ron when Hermione didn't answer. Ron rolled his eyes behind Hermione's back.

"Hermione's got herself all annoyed because McGonagall didn't give her Head Girl."

Hermione shot Ron a filthy look.

"I am not! If someone else deserved it then-"

Harry grinned.

"Come on, Hermione, we all know you deserve it. Obviously McGonagall had her reasons. Goodness knows why she picked me to be Head Boy."

"You're right," said Emily. "No one in their right mind would want the Boy-Who-Lived to be Head Boy."

"Let's just go," he growled, stomping out of the compartment with a half-hearted glare at Emily. Ron and Hermione grinned at Emily and followed him out.

When they arrived, Harry saw that Theodore Nott had replaced Malfoy as the Slytherin prefect, and to his chagrin Pansy was still there. The two of them shot him a filthy look as he sat down.

The last to arrive was Padma Patil, and Harry saw Hermione shoot her an irritated glance. Pinned to her shirt was the shiny Head Girl badge.

They settled into the meeting, and thankfully it didn't last too long. Harry decided in the first five minutes of the meeting that if he had never done anything so boring. But of course it was all very serious, as they were brought up to speed on new procedures and safety measures. When it was over, Hermione and Ron went off to do their rounds, while Harry headed back to the compartment.

He sat and talked with Emily until Ron and Hermione came back, and they played Exploding Snap.

"We should get changed," said Harry eventually. They reluctantly abandoned their seats and found their robes, and a few minutes late the station came into view. Harry was relieved to see its lights through the darkness. A year since Hagrid's death, he thought. Hermione saw where he was looking and smiled sadly.

"You miss him, don't you?" she asked, laying her hand on his shoulder.

"Yes," said Harry shortly, turning away. He didn't want to talk about it.

**oOoOo**

_As Hogwarts strengthens from within, _

_His legacy will show, _

_But if your will should dim and fail, _

_Then enmity will grow. _

_A leader greater than us all, _

_A light through dark and pain_

_Remember what he taught you all, _

_Lest he have died in vain. _

_Now one must lead us in his place, _

_He sits before me now, _

_A soul so dark and light at once, _

_His sign upon his brow. _

_Listen to him; heed his words, _

_He will protect you all, _

_If die he must, then die he will, _

_To save the members of this school. _

_For times are dark, and rough and cold, _

_And I fear for what will come, _

_If you do not unite as one, _

_And forgive what once was done. _

_For Slytherin, so shrewd and sly, _

_Was firm in his beliefs, _

_But underneath, his heart was good,_

_And his loss brought only grief. _

_Fair Hufflepuff, she saw the truth, _

_That lay in doing kind, _

_And hated nothing more than when_

_Good friendships did unwind. _

_But it was Ravenclaw, so calm and smart, _

_Who saw what would result, _

_And passed along her gift of sight, _

_So that one day the feud might halt. _

_The last of them was Gryffindor, _

_Whose courage could not be faked,_

_And now today, as it was then, _

_The lion will fight the snake. _

_But history is not set in stone, _

_And fates are now in play, _

_And of the Dark Lord's sound defeat, _

_We all await the day. _

_So heed my words, I ask of you, _

_Find friends in those who once were foes, _

_And remember those who fought for you, _

_And those who came to blows. _

_Remember those whose lives were lost, _

_And carry on in their stead, _

_Unite together, be as one, _

_Until the Dark Lord is dead. _

**oOoOo**

True to his word, Harry continued to run the DA. It was a welcome distraction from his worries. At the times when Harry was not with the DA or at and Order meeting, he would be at Quidditch practice or studying or busy with Head Boy duties. He had little time to spend with his friends, but he reminded himself time an again that it would all be over soon.

He spoke once with the leader of the V'Ardian clan, but little came of it. He received notes from Snape, and sometimes Draco, and would pass them on to the Order. They wanted to know who his contact was, but he wouldn't tell them. Mrs Weasley and Remus worried for his safety, but he reminded them that his contact was the Order's only contact from the Inner Circle, and that their safety was more important than his.

It was in the fifth week of term that Harry finally gained the courage to destroy the fourth Horcrux. It was late, and they had just finished their DA meeting. The students were filing out of the room, and Harry told Ron and Hermione that he would clean up by himself.

"Augustus," he said, signalling to the tall Slytherin student. "A word, please."

Caydon Augustus broke off from his friends and walked over to Harry with a backwards glance. Harry waited until all of the students were gone and shut the door. Caydon looked at him suspiciously.

"What do you want, Potter?" he asked, a defensive sneer flickering quickly across his face. He seemed nervous.

"I wanted to ask you something," said Harry, picking up a cushion and laying on a chair.

"What?"

"Augustus," said Harry. "Is that your mother's name or your father's?"

Caydon looked confused.

"My mother's," he replied. He scowled. "Look, what's this about? I have stuff to do. My friends will be-"

"Screw your friends," spat Harry. "This is more important. Tell me, who is your father?"

Caydon flushed.

"I don't know. My mother refuses to tell me. And I don't see how it's any of your business anyway!"

Harry gave a satisfied murmur of assent.

"That's what I thought," he said. He stepped in front of Caydon. "Just relax, okay."

"Why? What are you doing?" he asked in alarm. Harry ignored him, and closed his eyes. He took a smaller step forward and reached out to grip Caydon about the head. Caydon moved to step back, spluttering in anger, but Harry tightened his grip.

"Stay still," he hissed.

Harry took a deep breath and let go of his magic, feeling it spread over Caydon, and he stilled.

"Good," he whispered. And then he saw it, deep inside Caydon, at the core of magic. Caydon's own magic was normal, coursing through his body, but cocooned within it deep in his chest was a darker magic, pulsing and growing. Harry stretched out his own magic and touched it, registering the slimy darkness of it. The moment Harry touched it Caydon stiffened, and his breath began to come in short, sharp bursts.

Slowly Harry wrapped the darkness within his own magic and drew it out of Caydon's body and into his own. Caydon fell to his knees, but Harry ignored him and forced the ball of dark magic back inside himself, locking it in with the rest of it. It felt so wrong, and he closed of his feelings, Occluding his mind. He opened his eyes and released his vice-like grip on Caydon's head.

Caydon looked up at him with wide eyes.

"What was that?" he breathed.

"How do you feel?" asked Harry. Caydon blinked and swallowed convulsively. He looked down at his hands in amazement, as though he expected to see something else.

"I feel…great." He struggled to his feet, and his breathing was calm once more. "I feel better than I've felt…ever. What did you do?"

Harry turned away, pulling out his wand.

"I removed a…presence…from inside you. A segment of your father's soul."

"My father? How did you…Who? And how?"

Harry turned around to face Caydon again, hiding his wand surreptitiously behind his back.

"The first day I met you I felt like I could identify with you on some basic, intimate level. For a while I wasn't sure why, but then I figured it out." Harry looked down. "People have been trying to destroy Lord Voldemort for a long time, but he hasn't been exactly mortal, because he split his soul, and hid the pieces of it. I recognised his presence in you, because I already had a piece of him in me."

Caydon paled, then laughed nervously.

"You're saying that you think You-Know-Who is my father? That's ridiculous! My mother would never-"

"No, but Voldemort isn't the kind of person who would ask a woman if she wants to sleep with him. If Voldemort wanted a child to store a part of his soul in, then you were probably conceived specifically for that purpose. I have no doubt that Voldemort held no love for either you or your mother."

Caydon's face flushed in anger.

"How dare you speak of my mother that way, Potter! This is completely and utterly ludicrous and you have no right to say such a thing! What did you do to me?"

Harry smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry, Caydon." He raised his wand. "Obliviate."

Caydon blinked and Harry put his wand back in his pocket and smiled brilliantly.

"Thanks for staying back and helping me clean up Caydon," he said, turning away to pick up his bag. "Maybe next week we can try that shield you talked about."

Caydon blinked in confusion before giving a hesitant smile.

"Er…that's okay."

Harry walked to the door with Caydon, and when it came time to part ways, Caydon turned to him.

"You know I really like these DA meetings. In fact I feel really good."

Harry smiled and bid him good night, wondering if he would ever be free of the growing darkness within him.

**oOoOo**

It seemed that the more of Voldemort's soul that lay within him, the stronger their connection grew. It was rare now that he would pass a night without dreaming of the Dark Lord, and during the day his scar ached and the Dark Mark itched continuously.

"You right mate?" asked Ron, for the fifth time that day as he saw Harry rubbing his left arm under the table.

"Yeah," muttered Harry. "Yeah I'm fine."

The two of them met up with Hermione and Emily and headed for Defence. Their new teacher was an old wizard by the name of Martin Matheson, thin and of average height. His hair was neatly cut, his dress impeccable, and he conducted the lesson with an air of impatience and detachment that bordered on boredom. He was unenthusiastic, and the students even more so. He looked down upon them with an air of superiority and Harry hated him.

The new Potions Master was not much better, and Harry wasn't quite sure how they had even managed to attain a Mastery. Tonks had returned to the Auror office, and in her stead the school hired Professor Celine Perry. She was young, much younger than any other Professor Harry had ever known, and seemed not to have progressed past adolescence. She would laugh without the slightest provocation, and Harry dreaded the high-pitched giggle. Her manner was far from serious, and the cloud of perfume that constantly surrounded her was nauseating.

Harry forced his mind away from her and focussed on the lesson. They were learning about werewolves…again…and Harry found himself drifting off to sleep. His scar itched madly and he jerked awake, forcing himself into alertness for fear of encouraging a dream.

He began to plan his next move.

**oOoOo**

"You-Know-Who moved against the Ministry last night in one of the largest attacks since the war began," reported the journalist on the wizarding wireless. "In the aggressive assault during the early hours of this morning, Aurors were ambushed when they received a tip-off, and were unprepared for the relentless and carefully prepared strategies of You-Know-Who's followers. In what was believed to be a diversion, three Aurors were killed while a further five are now in critical condition at St Mungo's Hospital. At the same time as the attack, a number of Death Eaters breeched the security surrounding the Ministry of Magic and entered the building. Death Eaters now have control of the facility, along with a number of hostages including the head of the Department of Mysteries.

"Among the captured Death Eaters are Alectus Carrow, Adolphus Staten, and Draco Malfoy, who is believed to be one of the Death Eaters responsible for the murder of Albus Dumbledore. They will be tried by the Wizengamot over the coming week and sentenced to Azkaban."

Harry turned the radio off and lay back in his bed with a deep sigh. He needed a drink.

He closed his eyes and ran over the list again in his head. As far as he knew there was only one Horcrux left. Regulus had destroyed the one within Hogwarts, and Dumbledore had destroyed the ring. Harry had destroyed the locket and the one within Caydon Augustus. Well, disabled them anyway. The soul itself still existed, locked safely within Harry. The fifth was Nagini.

Unfortunately, Harry thought, unless he could somehow influence Voldemort's actions through their connection, he would have to kill Nagini at the same time he faced Voldemort.

He opened his eyes and stared at the canopy over his bed. He thought about the sixth and final Horcrux, and hoped he was right.

**oOoOo**

"My Lord, everything is in place," murmured Snape, bowing before his master.

"Excellent," Voldemort breathed. "Is the army assembled?"

"As per your instructions, my Lord."

Voldemort gave a quiet murmur of satisfaction, and then frowned.

"But of course I have lost the alliance of the vampires, save for one clan. Tell me Severus, have you had no luck in identifying the one from the Prophecy?"

"No my Lord, but I believe he is still loyal to you. After all, he gave you Hogwarts. He gave you Dumbledore's life."

"Ah, Severus, you do not give yourself enough credit. Without _you_ it would not have been possible at all."

"And Draco Malfoy, my Lord," murmured Snape.

Voldemort's acknowledgement was noncommittal.

"I never was sure about that boy. He did not seem to have the strength that his father did, and now of course he is useless to me. When is his hearing?"

"I believe it is to be on the 15th of this month. He will no doubt be found guilty. He will be sent to Azkaban."

"That does not matter. We have the Ministry, and soon we will take Azkaban. But first we will get rid of that fool, Weasley."

**oOoOo**

Harry looked around the full common room, wondering where all of his friends were. He stomped up to his dorm, scowling. Draco Malfoy's trial was in three days, and somehow he needed to be present, but at the moment it was proving difficult to get permission.

He swung open the door to the dorm and stopped, blushing. Ron and Hermione sprang apart, their faces red and their clothes crumpled.

"Er…sorry," said Harry, stepping backwards. "I'll just go."

"Wait- Harry," said Ron, but Harry turned and left. He felt increasingly but off from the two of them lately, but he supposed it was entirely justified. After all, he hardly told them anything anymore. With a deep sigh, Harry left Gryffindor tower and headed for the library, hoping someone would be there. With great relief he found Katherine, sitting by herself at the back.

"Hey," he said quietly, walking up behind her. "Want to go for a walk?"

She looked around furtively, but no one was watching.

"Yes, alright. Do you need the potion?"

"No, that's okay," he said. "I just need to talk."

She gathered her books and they slipped out of the library, following the less used corridors and shortcuts until they made it outside. He grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles, and they set off around the edge of the lake.

"You're upset," she said quietly, gazing at him intently. Half-way around the lake they sat down upon a large flat rock hidden from the castle by a grove of trees, and Harry slumped forward with his head in his hands.

"It's just getting so hard," he murmured. Katherine moved next to him and took his hand in hers.

"It will all be over soon though, won't it?" she asked him, and Harry knew that she too needed reassurance.

"Yes," Harry whispered. "It will all be over soon." His throat seemed to be stuck, and he swallowed hard. "I just- I feel so guilty. You have no idea what it's like to take someone's life and I just keep wondering if maybe…"

He broke off for a moment, unable to continue. He wasn't use to telling people what he was going through, and he felt uncomfortable.

"It's just, the prophecy, the first one, says that I'll have the power to kill him, but it doesn't say that I will. And the second one says that I will help him, and it's already happening, and I can't help thinking that maybe I'm not supposed to destroy him, and maybe in the end I'm going to go dark."

He knew he was rambling, but he couldn't stop. Katherine turned his head and pressed her lips to his.

"The fact that you feel this way is proof that you aren't going to go dark, Harry," she said softly, cupping his face in her hands. "I know you, and you are the kindest, most selfless person I have ever met. I _know _that you can do this."

She dropped her hands to her sides and Harry smiled sadly, running a hand through his hair.

"I wish I could spend more time with you," he said quietly. "I hate doing it like this, in secret. It's not fair."

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"They say absence makes the heart grow fonder," she said. Harry leaned over and kissed her.

"I love you," he murmured.

"Love you too," she replied.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Another chapter done and I'm sorry it's taking me so long. I used to be so good! But I promise I'm not giving it up or anything. Please review if you like it or if there's something you don't like. Read my other stories HP and the Strength of White I and II and HP and the Heir of Voldemort.- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 33: Of Caring and Consequence**


	33. Of Caring and Consequence

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 33**

**Of Caring and Consequence**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

"My goodness, you're Harry Potter, aren't you!" gasped the witch in the purple robes. "Can I have your autograph?"

"Er…no. I'm very sorry, but I'm busy. Excuse me…"

He forced his way past the excited witch, following Professor McGonagall into the crowded courtroom. After fifteen minutes of being accosted by people and forced to shake hands, Harry finally managed to get a seat next to the Headmistress.

She shot him a sharp glance, though her lips curled up slightly at the ends.

"Have a bit of trouble did you?" she asked. He rolled his eyes, and that was enough of an answer. She still wasn't happy about him coming, but he had argued that as it was his information that had led to the Death Eater's arrest, he had every right to be here.

The courtroom was in a secure location, and under the Fidelius charm, and was designed in the same way as the courtroom in which Harry had undergone his own trial. It took fifteen more minutes before everyone had settled down and taken their seats, and even then a constant whisper seemed to fill the echoing room. Mr Weasley took the stand and cleared his throat; somewhere behind Harry a camera went off and a quill scratched on paper.

"Today is the Tuesday 15th of October and the trial is Alectus Carrow and Adolphus Staten versus the Ministry of Magic. Bring in the prisoners."

Harry hadn't known the Draco Malfoy would be receiving a separate trial, but then realised that he was going to be charged with more than these two. Harry watched in silence as Carrow and Staten were brought in and bound in the chairs before Mr Weasley. He stared down at them sternly. Alectus Carrow looked as though she had been crying, but Adolphus Staten was calm and collected, gazing up at Mr Weasley without emotion.

Harry looked at Professor McGonagall and saw that she was glaring down at them in anger. Harry felt only pity. Mr Weasley made a motion to silence the court.

"Alectus Carrow and Adolphus Staten, you are hereby charged with the crimes of aiding the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, for the murder of Germaine Sparrow and Frederick Wiltshire, and for the use of the Unforgivables. How do you plead?"

"Innocent!" shrieked Alecto, looking up in panic. Staten said nothing. "I didn't do it, I swear! He made me! He made me-"

"Silence!" thundered Mr Weasley. Harry had never seen him look so angry, as he stared at the two Death Eaters in disdain. "You committed those crimes under your own free will and you shall be punished for it. However, if you have sufficient information that will be of aid to the Ministry the Wizengamot may alter your sentence as they see fit."

"I'll tell you anything!" screamed Alecto.

"Quiet!" hissed Staten, speaking for the first time. "You should be proud to have been caught in service to our Lord, not whining like a snivelling coward."

Harry leaned forward so that he might hear their words better.

"There are no longer Dementors at Azkaban, Alecto, and it will not be long before the Dark Lord gains control of the prison anyway. We will be free and our incarceration will be avenged."

Alecto looked at him with large, frightened eyes before turning back to Mr Weasley.

"I have names," she blurted out suddenly.

Staten looked away from her and refused to lay his eyes on her again.

"You will be punished," he whispered softly, and it was the last thing he said.

"Names?" asked Mr Weasley, leaning forward.

"Yes. Names of Death Eaters loyal to the Dark Lord."

"Very well. Tell the court."

Mr Weasley leaned back and waited expectantly.

"Julius Faraway," Alecto said, her hands shaking and her voice trembling.

"Already known," said Mr Weasley.

"Clinton Smith!"

"In our custody."

"Severus Snape!" she gasped out.

Harry felt Professor McGonagall draw in a deep breath.

"Already known," snapped Mr Weasley, leaning forward again. Alecto swallowed nervously, her eyes darting around.

"Owen Mulgrave! Nymphadora Tonks!"

The crowd exploded in whispers and the witch in front of Harry began scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. A nervous grin flickered across Alecto's face.

"Silence!" roared Mr Weasley. Harry saw Tonks seated in the front row across the room and she met his eyes in alarm. The wizards and witches around her were eyeing her suspiciously, but Remus clung onto her hand.

"Silence!" yelled Mr Weasley again, and the noise in the room dulled. "Nymphadora Tonks was a victim of the Imperius Curse has been in full control of herself for some time. But Owen Mulgrave…" He leaned over to whisper something in the ear of a witch, who nodded and wrote something down.

"Who's Owen Mulgrave?" asked Harry, leaning closer to Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared and her lips thinned.

"He is the Head of the Department of Mysteries and a member of the Order."

Harry sat back in his chair.

"So he might not be a hostage at all," he surmised.

"That sounds correct, yes," said Professor McGonagall.

"Very well," said Mr Weasley, looking back down at Alecto. "Is that all you have?"

"No- well, yes, but I can get more, I can!"

Mr Weasley looked down at the two Death Eaters, his expression severe. He looked up at the members of the Wizengamot.

"Those in favour of finding the defendants guilty?"

The vote was unanimous.

Mr Weasley looked down at the papers on his desk and back at the two prisoners.

"Alecto Carrow and Adolphus Staten, you are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban." He turned to the Aurors stationed at the door. "Remove the prisoners."

It was a short trial, Harry thought. He wondered if that was the normal procedure. Maybe it was because they hadn't chosen representation. Either way, Harry thought, they deserved exactly what they got. The hostile glares of the witches and wizards followed the two Death Eaters out of the room. Mr Weasley exchanged the folder on his desk for a second one.

"The trial is Draco Malfoy versus the Ministry of Magic. Bring in the prisoner."

As Drcao was led in his eyes dashed wildly around the assembled people, but they skipped over Harry. He saw that Malfoy looked pale and ill, a streak of red marring the side of his face. The Aurors thrust him into the chair and chains snaked their way around his wrist and ankles. His face flushed in anger and embarrassment, and he stared defiantly up at Mr Weasley.

"Draco Malfoy, you are charged with aiding the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, using the Unforgivables and other Dark spells, and the murder of Albus Dumbledore. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," said Malfoy, raising his chin in defiance. Professor McGonagall made a noise of disgust and Harry felt a moment of regret for what Malfoy had gone through. Around Harry, witches and wizards hissed insults at the young blonde.

"Mr Malfoy, the Ministry has authorised the use of Veritaserum. If you are found guilty whilst pleading innocent, your sentence will be much more severe."

"I didn't kill Dumbledore," said Malfoy loudly. "And I never used an Unforgivable."

"But you were a Death Eater."

"I was a spy," said Malfoy, sneering up at Mr Weasley. Someone behind Harry laughed and Malfoy's face turned a deep red.

"Mr Malfoy you were seen at the sire of the attack, fighting against Ministry wizards. What do you have to say to that?"

"I just said," Malfoy ground out, "that I was a spy. I fought, but not of my spells harmed another wizard any more severely than to Stupefy them, and I certainly did not cast an Unforgivable."

"Very well," said Mr Weasley quietly. His voice rose. "Did you or did you not murder Albus Dumbledore. Answer truthfully or we will be forced to administer Veritaserum."

Draco frowned.

"I didn't kill him."

"Then who did?" asked Mr Weasley sharply. Harry felt a hint of respect for Malfoy for not revealing his part in Dumbledore's death. Malfoy remained stubbornly silent.

"Were you present at the time of Dumbledore's death?"

No answer.

"Was Severus Snape present at Dumbledore's death?"

No answer. McGonagall looked down at her former student in contempt.

"Mr Malfoy," said Mr Weasley, his voice growing louder. "You are known to have been at the scene of more than these two crimes. You are known to be a Death Eater. You come from a family known to associate with the Dark Lord and his followers. You have no one to vouch for you and you are facing a life sentence in Azkaban. I suggest you tell the truth young man."

Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but Harry steeled himself and slowly stood up.

"I will vouch for him," he said loudly, staring stubbornly ahead as Professor McGonagall looked up at him in shocked disapproval. Mr Wealsey faltered and looked over at Harry in surprise. Malfoy's head swung around to stare at him in relief. A camera went off behind Harry and the witch with the quill began scribbling furiously. Mr Weasley gaped for a moment, while Professor McGonagall hissed up at him to sit down and tugged on his robes.

"Mr Potter," said Mr Weasley formally, his voice ringing with doubt. He glanced down and shuffled the papers on his desk. "This is…very unexpected…it complicates matters. You wish to…" Mr Weasley paused, confusion passing across his face. "…attest to Mr Malfoy's…"

"His innocence," said Harry, when Mr Weasley seemed unable to come up with a better word.

Mr Weasley glanced uncertainly around before looking back down at his desk, fidgeting uncomfortably. He was completely thrown.

"Very well, Mr Potter. You are of age and your request cannot legally be denied. You will, however, be required to consent to an interrogation with the use of Veritaserum. Do you understand."

Harry nodded his head sharply. Mr Weasley sighed and Professor Mcgonagall gave up, settling instead for glaring at him stonily.

"Alright, Mr Potter, down here if you please," said Mr Weasley, his formal words undermined by the tone of regret and disappointment as he gestured to the chair next to Malfoy. Harry descended the stone steps, ignoring the eyes boring into his back.

He stalked past Malfoy with only the slightest nod of his head as acknowledgement, and took a seat. The chains did not bind him.

"Administer the veritaserum," Mr Weasley ordered, staring down at Harry with something akin to disappointment on his face.

Harry took the vial as it was handed to him and drank it, and found it sweet and light.

"Now, Harry," said Mr Weasley, slipping briefly as he used Harry's name, "as you are not the accused, unless we have your direct permission we are only able to ask questions which relate directly to Mr Malfoy. The amount of questions cannot exceed three. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Harry said, feeling an irresistible urge to tell the truth. Everything seemed somewhat hazy, and he sat back, relaxed.

Me Wealey sighed.

"Alright. Mr Potter, were you present at the death of Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes," intoned Harry.

"And did you see who cast the Killing Curse that led to his death?"

"Yes."

"Was it Draco Malfoy?"

"No."

"Administer the antidote," said Mr Weasley, as excited whispers broke out through the court. He looked frazzled. Harry chanced a look at Malfoy and saw that he looked infinitely relieved.

Mr Weasley cleared his throat and the court silenced.

"Mr Potter, any questions asked now you may choose to answer of your own free will. At any time you may choose to leave or refuse to answer a question. Is that clear?"

"Yes," answered Harry, his head clear again.

"Who did you see cast the Killing Curse at Albus Dumbledore?"

"Severus Snape," said Harry, loudly and clearly. More murmurs filled the hushed court room.

"Was he aware of your presence at the time?" asked Mr Weasley.

"No. Dumbledore put a disillusionment charm and freezing charm on me. They didn't wear off until he died, and by that time Snape and Malfoy had left."

"So Draco Malfoy was an accomplice to Severus Snape?" asked Mr Weasley sharply. Harry shook his head.

"Draco Malfoy was a spy," said Harry. Speaking broke out throughout the room and Mr Weasley silenced them, looking stunned. His expression morphed into one of suspicion as he looked down at Harry. He knew very well the Mr Weasley couldn't ask about the Order, so Harry felt the need to expound his statement.

"Malfoy was a Death Eater," he said, "but he was never faithful. During his time at Hogwarts he passed me information about Voldemort's plans, and after he left with Snape he became even more trusted, and was able to pass on even more information."

Mr Weasley looked as surprised as anyone in the courtroom. _Imagine that_, the shocked whispers and judging faces seemed to say. _A Malfoy helping the Boy-Who-Lived._

"Do you agree with everything that Mr Potter has said?" Mr Weasley asked Malfoy.

"Yes," said Malfoy, his voice holding a desperate edge that Harry had never heard before.

Mr Weasley scanned the area of the crowd where the members of the Wizengamot sat.

"Those in favour of finding the accused, Draco Malfoy, innocent?" he asked, and Harry felt his heart lift in relief. _Innocent, not guilty_, Mr Weasley had asked. Harry glared coldly and dispassionately at the members of the Wizengamot, and slowly but surely they began to raise their hands, some with looks of uncertainty still on their faces.

"It is done," said Mr Weasley. "Draco Malfoy has been found innocent an all accounts, and is free to go."

The chains snaked away from his wrists and ankles and he stood up next to Harry. Wordlessly they gripped hands and shook, and they walked together from the room. Professor McGonagall met them outside, her mouth a thin, hard line.

"We will be having words when we return, Mr Potter," she said quietly, her tone somewhat threatening. She gazed dispassionately at Malfoy, but her face softened.

"If you truly did not kill him, Draco, then I am sorry for judging you. And if, as Mr Potter said, you are the one who has been passing information, then you have my gratitude. You are a very brave young man, and you are welcome back at Hogwarts if that is what you want."

A faint tinge appeared in Malfoy's cheeks at what amounted to extravagant praise from the headmistress and he gave a faint smile.

"Thankyou, Professor," he murmured, his gaze going to the ground. He really had changed, Harry thought. The experience had left him humbled, and more aware of what really mattered.

"I will see the two of you back at Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait in my office for me. We have a lot to discuss." Her piercing gaze landed on Harry and at his nod she bid them farewell and left to go and talk to someone. Harry spotted a reporter heading his way and motioned to Malfoy, and they headed for the Atrium, ignoring the looks sent their way. They Flooed back to Hogwarts, Harry spilling clumsily out of the fireplace and into McGonagall's office. Without speaking they took seats in front of the great oak desk.

Malfoy fidgeted, clearly uneasy, and again Harry reflected on the changes that had been wrought in the boy.

"Are you okay, Malfoy?" asked Harry eventually, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"It's Draco, Potter. I think you've earned that right," he said, surprising Harry.

"Then you can call me Harry. I think _you've_ earned that right as well."

Malfoy nodded, a small smile on his face before it fell and he looked sharply at Harry.

"So you're a vampire," he said, his grey eyes full of doubt and blatant curiosity. Harry gave a small sigh.

"Yes."

"Since when?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Snape didn't tell you?"

"He said it was up to you to decide if you wanted to tell me."

The eyebrow drew higher.

"I know, I was shocked too," said Malfoy, grinning lightly. "It seems he's beginning to- dare I say it- respect you."

"Hmm," Harry murmured noncommittally. "I was bitten on my birthday last year. Did he tell you the rest of it? About the prophecy and everything?"

"He…hinted at it."

Harry sent out a declaration of thanks to Snape and told Malfoy about the prophecy. He trusted Malfoy now, knew he could keep a secret.

"How is Snape?" asked Harry, in the long silence that followed his tale. Draco shrugged.

"As well as can be expected, I guess. I think he misses Hogwarts."

_Of course he does,_ thought Harry. _But it isn't the castle he misses._

Draco looked like he wanted to ask something, and Harry, giving into the desire, probed his mind briefly. Relieved at what he found, he sat back in his chair.

"You know about Katherine, then," he said. Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes. He told me just after we left." Draco shook his head. "I never knew…never thought…"

"I know what you mean," said Harry sincerely.

"How did _you_ find out?" asked Malfoy, a bit incredulous that Harry of all people had known.

"Well, it's a bit of a long story," said Harry. _But we have time. _"There's this place, a house, where I sometimes go on the holidays, somewhere safe. She was staying there at the beginning of our sixth year, and I was told that she was the daughter of a friend of Dumbledore's. She had a glamour, but because I'd already been bitten, I could see through it. Vampires have that ability."

"Huh," Malfoy murmured, fascinated. He traced his upper lip with his finger and leaned back in the comfortable chair, a leg thrown over the arm rest.

"As soon as I saw her I knew it couldn't be a coincidence- she looks so much like Snape, but I didn't find out the truth for a while…"

"I haven't seen her yet," said Malfoy. "Not in her true form at least."

Harry smiled.

"She's beautiful," he murmured, gazing into the fireplace. Malfoy looked at him in amazement.

"You fancy Snape's daughter," he chortled. "Oh, this is beautiful. He would _kill_ you, if he ever found out."

Harry's eyes rose to meet his.

"He did threaten…" he said.

Malfoy's mouth dropped open.

"He _knows_?" he asked in a shocked whisper that was trembling with suppressed glee.

"Well he was giving me Occlumency lessons and I think that gave him a bit of a hint, but one night she was- er- _visiting_ me, in the hospital wing, and he kind of walked in on us…"

Malfoy burst out laughing.

"Oh, this is too much," he gasped, slapping his knee in mirth. "So let me get this straight. Snape thinks you fancy his daughter, and you're the only one who knows about her, and in reality you're _shagging _her. Oh, this is _excellent_."

Harry blushed.

"I'm not _shagging_ her, Malfoy," he said, devastated.

Malfoy took one look at his red face and burst out in laughter again.

"Oh, don't be so modest, Potter. I'm absolutely amazed you had the guts to pull of such a thing. I mean, here I was, thinking Snape hated you because you were the one who destroyed the Dark Lord. Then he told me he was a spy, and I thought he hated you because you were a Gryffindor, or because of your father or some other rubbish. Ah, now I see everything!"

Suddenly understanding passed across his face.

"That's why the Dark Lord took her! Because she was seeing you!"

Harry's face fell.

"Yes. I couldn't believe it. I mean, we weren't really seeing each other at the time, just…meeting…and the one person to see us was the one that Voldemort had under the Imperius Curse."

Malfoy flinched slightly at the name, but his curiosity had displaced any fear.

"Who saw you? It must have been a teacher, for them to have enough trust to lure a student away…"

"Tonks," said Harry. "She saw us together one day and assumed she was my girlfriend."

"Nymphadora Tonks?" asked Malfoy in shock. "She's my-"

"Your mother's cousin's daughter, or something," said Harry. "I know."

"Wow," muttered Malfoy, gazing into the distance. His eyes flicked back to Harry.

"So tell me about you and Miss Snape," he grinned. "Getting any action?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"You are so crude, Draco."

"Oh, come on," eh wheedled. "I've been in hell for the last Merlin knows how long doing _your_ bidding. I need some gossip."

Harry rolled his eyes again.

"Fine. I'll tell you how we got together then. But no more," he warned sternly.

"Whatever," said Malfoy, rolling his eyes in a parody of Harry. He no longer seemed concerned about upholding appearances or dignity. "Just keep going with your story."

"Alright. Well we kind of got to know each other in the holidays before sixth year, staying in the same place and everything, and once we came back to school we saw each other around. At this stage I hadn't- hadn't had any blood since I'd been bitten and one day I just lost control around her." He flushed. "I kissed her and bloody near bit her."

Draco smirked and Harry sent him a glare.

"How romantic," he drawled.

"Anyway," said Harry loudly, ignoring him, "it was the first time I'd felt my- er- my _teeth_, and that stopped me, but I think she saw. After that we didn't speak for a while. I was pretty angry, and a bit embarrassed, to tell you the truth."

Draco's smirk grew wider.

"The next time I saw her she had this potion with her, and she said she knew what I was. Figured out, just like Hermione would have. She offered to- she said I could drink her blood, and that if she drank the potion first she wouldn't turn. I couldn't resist, I was so weak. It had been months since I'd been bitten and I knew I needed it. So I did it, and that's when Tonks saw us. Bloody near found out what I was, too."

"Soon after that the three of them- Katherine, Ginny and Neville, were taken, and I went after them. When I got back I guess that's when we started to get closer, and eventually it just happened." Harry blushed again slightly. "Feeding seemed to go hand in hand with snogging."

Malfoy laughed uproariously, slapping his hand on his knee. Harry had never seen him display such emotion.

"So what happened between you and Snape?" asked Malfoy once he calmed down. "That day you punched him?"

Harry's face darkened and he scowled.

"I'm not going to go into that," he said. "But that was the day Snape found out what I was, and connected me with the prophecy. I think he suspected before, but that destroyed any doubts he might have had."

Harry sighed.

"I still don't know if I can forgive him," he said, so quietly that Malfoy didn't hear.

"What?" he asked. Harry looked up and shook his head.

"That's a story for another time, Draco," he said, the name awkward and unfamiliar on his tongue. Draco looked disappointed.

"Ah well, it was quite a show in any case."

A moment later Professor McGonagall stepped out of the fire place and the two boys straightened in their chairs, their faces adopting serious expressions. A moment later Mr Weasley, Tonks and Moody followed her out. Professor McGonagall transfigured three more chairs and the four of them sat. McGonagall looked over at him sternly.

"Mr Potter. Explain yourself."

Harry looked around at the hard glances coming from the other three adults and scowled.

"What would you like to know?" he asked. Professor McGonagall lost her patience.

"What were you thinking?" she asked, her lips quivering in anger. "You could have at least told us what you had planned! Why did you not tell the Order who your contact was? Why did you wait to make the announcement in public? Why did-"

"I have reasons," said Harry loudly, cutting her off angrily. "I didn't tell you who my contact was because it was vital it not be leaked. I'm sure Tonks could tell you why that was important!" He glanced at Tonks' now pale face and went on. "And the reason for not telling you what I had planned beforehand was that you never would have allowed me to go. You know this is true! And the reason I chose to expose the truth in public and before the Wizengamot was because Voldemort needs to know that not everyone he believes to be loyal really is! It was a movement made specifically to destabilise him and make him doubt his followers. Furthermore, there was no point letting him go to Azkaban, because even if Voldemort did manage to take hold of the prison, I still have another contact!"

McGonagall looked pale, though considerably calmed.

"Who?" she asked.

"That will remain mine and Draco's knowledge and no one else's," said Harry quietly.

"But why did you not let Mr Malfoy submit to the Veritaserum and prove himself innocent? Why do it yourself?" asked Mr Weasley.

"Like I said, the impact was much greater and much more effective for the fact that Draco was loyal to me specifically, not just the Order. I also did it because Draco was the accused. I can assure you I did not enter into this lightly and I did much research. If I could prove his innocence with only three questions, then that was far better than you having the right to ask him many as you wished. There are a lot of things about that night that only Draco and Snape and I know, and they are things that I am not ready to disclose to any of you."

"Hiding something?" asked Moody gruffly, both of his eyes swivelling in Harry's direction.

"Yes," Harry said forthrightly. "But it probably isn't what you expect, and I daresay you'll find out soon enough anyway."

Professor McGonagall stared hard at him before giving a deep sigh.

"Mr Potter, you must not feel that you must do everything alone. We are here to help you. This war is not your responsibility alone."

"Yes it is," said Harry bluntly. Professor McGonagall sighed again.

"Harry-"

"Professor McGonagall, I'm sure you heard just as well as the rest of the wizarding world when the prophecy was revealed."

"That prophecy was made by Sybill Trelawney. It is most certainly-"

"True," interrupted Harry. I can assure you that the prophecy was not made up or anything of the sort, and there is no doubt that it is about me. I will kill Voldemort or die trying and I am not going to wait around for others to make foolish attempts trying to do the same thing because there is just _no point_."

Harry stood up.

"If you'll kindly excuse me I have things to be doing."

Professor McGonagall stared up at him, her face white. When she spoke her voice broke.

"Very well, Mr Potter," she said softly and, Harry thought, somewhat sadly. "You may go."

Harry nodded.

"I'll wait outside for Draco."

"No need, Harry," said Mr Weasley quickly. "He can come with you. We just wanted to - uh – apologise to Mr Malfoy."

"Hmph," put in Moody gruffly. "You did well boy, if it was you passing that information to Potter. Quite a surprise though, I must say."

Draco nodded and stood up, his face a blank mask. He looked down at McGonagall.

"Where will I be staying?" he asked. Harry stepped forward.

"He can't go back to Slytherin unless he's under a glamour," he said. "They'd kill him."

McGonagall nodded.

"I'd rather not go back there in any case," said Malfoy haughtily.

"Well you should wear a glamour anyway, or you'll be in danger," put in Harry. Malfoy shrugged. "And you can stay in Gryffindor."

"I bloody well won't!" exploded Malfoy. Harry grinned.

"Sure you will," said Harry, his mouth twitching slightly.

"No way in-"

"Draco," said Harry. "Would you rather be in Hufflepuff?"

Malfoy's face turned pale.

"Ravenclaw, at least," he pleaded. Harry winked at Professor McGonagall, and he could have sworn she nearly smiled.

"Gryffindor would be best, I'm afraid," said Professor McGonagall. "And you will wear a glamour, for a while at least."

"But-"

"Don't worry, Draco. It'll look just as good as you look now," said Harry, smirking. Draco scowled at him and gave in.

"Whatever."

Harry flicked his wand in Malfoy's direction and before them stood a completely new young man. True to Harry's word, he was just as handsome as the real Malfoy, with wavy black hair and dark eyes. His skin was darker and his lips fuller. Malfoy took a look at himself and sneered, but the sneer looked out of place on the face and he nearly wailed in despair.

"Don't worry, Draco," said Harry consolingly. "You look great."

Professor McGonagall looked over at Harry with some surprise at his ability at putting up a glamour, but Harry ignored it.

"We'll just be going now, Professor," said Harry. "But first, do you have Draco's things that he left behind?"

Professor McGonagall gave a slight smile.

"They will be in your dorm when you arrive" she said. She paused a moment, then, "Good luck, boys."

Harry nodded and they turned and walked to the door.

"Oh, what will be your name, Mr Malfoy?" she asked, just before they could leave. Malfoy turned around, seemingly at a loss.

"Alex Grey," said Harry, cutting in. Malfoy looked like he was about to refuse, but then nodded slowly.

"It'll do, I guess," he said grudgingly, but Harry knew he understood Harry's choice.

**oOoOo**

"Now you have to remember to be _nice_ to them," said Harry for the third time.

"I know," sighed Draco as they approached the portrait. "Merlin what _am_ I getting myself into? How low have I sunk, that I must grovel amongst Gryffindors?"

Harry grinned.

"Password's _Godric_," he said, and Malfoy snorted as the portrait swung open.

"Could there be a more pathetic name?" he asked. Harry rolled his eyes. It was a rather bad password. Her led Draco up the stairs and intot he seventh year dorm where his friends were reclined on their beds, reading or doing homework. He noticed that the room seemed to have expanded, and another bed now lay next to his, a solid-looking mahogany trunk at the foot of it.

"Hey guys," said Harry, drawing an unwilling Draco in behind him. "New student," he grinned as they all sat up. "This is Alex Grey. He's from some poncy Italian school. Alex, this is Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Azi Shaka, and William Dashwood."

The boys crowded forth eagerly, reaching forward to shake hands and greet Alex. Harry nearly laughed as he saw the brief grimace on Draco's face as he shook Ron's hand.

And as Harry lay back in bed that night and listened to the sound of everyone falling asleep, he had to admit that it had been a pretty _good_ day.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Review, review, review! Again I apologise for the long update. I've actually had this chapter finished for ages, but our computer decided to screw up so I couldn't connect my USB key and so on. But here it finally is and I hope you enjoyed it- Wujjawoo. **

**Chapter 34: Of Pleasure, Pain, and Preparation**


	34. Of Pleasure, Pain and Preparation

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 34**

**Of Pleasure, Pain, and Preparation**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

Harry rose early, before the others, and surveyed the dorm that had nearly double in size in the last few months. Where once there had been five, there were now eight Gryffindors. Harry watched in amusement as Draco woke, looking around first in surprise, then disgust, then realisation. Harry laughed softly and rose from his leaning position against the wall.

"Better get used to it," he said, grinning. Draco scowled and swung himself out of the bed, batting away the disgustingly red hangings. He dressed in silence, and once he was done, Harry held a finger to his lips.

"Don't wake the others. I got something I want to show you."

Draco tossed his hair that no longer took well to being tossed, and instead settled for raising his nose in the air and sniffing disdainfully.

"What do you have to show me that is so important that we must be late for breakfast?" he asked. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I doubt we'll be late for breakfast, Draco. Besides I think this is someone you'll want to meet." Draco raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and Harry went on. "There's two people, actually."

"Two students?" he asked. "Surely there's no one that I don't know about?"

"Well you know about Katherine, obviously, but you haven't met her properly, have you? And I'll let the other person be a surprise."

Draco looked intrigued now, and nodded. At his nod of assent, Harry pulled a small locket from his pocket and tapped it with his wand. He slipped it back into his pocket and turned to see Draco's questioning gaze.

"So I can contact her. You know we're not allowed up the girl's dorms."

Draco smirked.

"Are you introducing me to your girlfriend, Potter? I didn't know you were seeing anyone. Surely news like that would have been all over the Daily Prophet."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Dear Merlin," he said. "Why does everyone always assume that she's my girlfriend? It's completely ridiculous."

"Whatever," replied Draco, giving a short shrug. He looked up to the girl's dorm, and whispered to Harry. "Though if you ask me, _I_ wouldn't mind snogging her, even if she _is_ a Gryffindor. She's-"

"Not another word," interrupted Harry stiffly, suddenly understanding Ron's protectiveness. He followed Malfoy's gaze to see Emily descending the stairs, looking distinctly tired.

"Draco, I'd like you to meet Emily. Emily Potter."

Draco blinked, and his mouth dropped open.

"Potter? As in son of Lily and James Potter?" he asked weakly.

"Nice to meet you," said Emily brightly, extending her hand. Draco snapped his jaw shut and regained his composure. He took Emily's hand and bent over it, brushing his lips on her knuckles. Harry rolled his eyes.

"A pleasure," he said smoothly.

"Enough theatrics, Draco," said Harry. He lowered his voice and looked at Emily. "Draco, as you can see, is under a glamour. His name for now is Alex Grey. Make sure you don't slip…"

"Alex Grey?" Emily asked, arching an eyebrow. Harry shrugged.

"Best I could come up with on short notice," he replied. "You want to come see Katherine?"

"Definitely," she nodded.

"Katherine and Emily were friends in Italy before they transferred here. And don't ask about the details- it's a long story."

Draco shrugged, and together the three of them set off to find Katherine.

**oOoOo**

"_This_ is where you went last night?" hissed Ron, shoving the paper in front of Harry as he sat down for breakfast. Alex and Emily sat across from him. Harry glanced briefly at the front page of the Daily Prophet, which was taken up entirely by a full-page picture of him standing next to Draco at the trial.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"You stood up for that…that slimy Slytherin? Why? I thought you hated Malfoy?"

"He killed Dumbledore, Harry!" added Hermione. "How could you stand up for him?"

Harry turned coldly to them.

"Draco was a spy," said Harry quietly, trying to keep others from hearing.

"The Order only had one spy," hissed Ron.

"He wasn't spying for Dumbledore, Ron. He was spying for _me_."

"What?" asked Ron, shocked.

"Draco was passing me information, Ron. He was doing it while he was still at Hogwarts, and after he left with Snape." Harry turned back to his breakfast.

"Really?" asked Hermione, her eyes wide. "I never knew…"

"Yeah, that's because he didn't tell us!" growled Ron. Harry turned angrily to him.

"Listen, Ron! We are not going to have this conversation here where everyone can hear us. If you must know though, what happened was between Draco and I, no one else. It has nothing to do with you and Hermione, or with your petty fights with Slytherin. Draco was on our side, and that is what matters."

"Hmph," said Ron, seemingly unable to come up with a proper response.

"I didn't tell you guys, but I didn't tell anyone else, either. It had to be a secret."

Hermione sighed.

"We understand, Harry," she said eventually. "Where is he now?"

Harry shrugged.

"Somewhere safe. I'm not exactly sure where; the Order took care of it."

Hermione nodded, and she looked around. Her eyes lit up as they landed on Draco.

"Oh, a new student!" she held out her hand. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger."

Draco smiled somewhat stiffly and took her hand.

"Alex Grey."

"Are you a seventh year?" she asked, intrigued.

"Yes. I arrived last night."

Ron nodded.

"We met him already," he told Hermione, who looked disappointed at this.

"What subjects are you doing?" she asked, smiling once again. Draco blinked, and Harry realised that he couldn't very well take exactly the same classes as he had before.

"He hasn't got his time table yet," Harry supplied for him.

"Oh," said Hermione, her attempt at discussing school work having been abruptly cut off.

Breakfast ended and Professor McGonagall still hadn't arrived with a time table for Draco, so Harry decided that he would simply have to attend the same classes as him.

"Come on, Alex," Harry said. We've got Defence first." Harry led him out of the Great Hall.

"Who's the new teacher?" asked Draco quietly. Harry looked sideways at him, hearing the undertones in his voice. He missed the way it used to be, just like Harry did. Snape had been close to him, Harry realised.

"Eliza Schwartz. German, if you can't tell. I suspect she was once a follower of Hitler."

"Hitler?"

"Muggle dictator. Evil man. Schwartz seems to believe a _lot_ of his crap."

"What did he do?" asked Draco, intrigued.

"Much the same as Voldemort," replied Harry. "Killed all the Jews; thought they were scum."

"Interesting…" replied Draco, nodding thoughtfully. "I always thought of it as Purebloods, Mudbloods, and Muggles. It never occurred to me that there were different classes of Muggles as well."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, well, they aren't _really _a different class, you know."

"Yes, I know, Potter. I don't think that way anymore."

"I know, Draco, I know."

**oOoOo**

"You never really told me how this whole vampire thing works," said Draco, eyeing Harry critically. Harry shrugged.

"I don't like talking about it," he said simply.

"How long have you been one?" Draco asked.

"Since my sixteenth birthday. Summer before sixth year."

Draco shook his head in amazement, taking a swig of Firewhisky straight from the bottle.

"Don't let anyone catch you with that," Harry warned. "They're not nearly so lenient in Gryffindor."

"Don't change the subject, Harry. I remember something about you being a Lord of V'Ardian."

"Because I'm a wizard," Harry explained. "Most vampires, unless they're part of the original bloodline, aren't magical. They have the basic vampiric traits, of course, but nothing compared to what a Lord can do. There are very few Lords. And of course, if they knew I was turned by the Prince of V'Ardian, well- I suppose I'd be considered a direct part of the bloodline then."

"The _Prince_ of V'Ardian turned you?" Draco burst out. "Merlin! What a scandal! And I thought-"

"Draco, how much do you really know about vampires?" Harry interrupted. Draco hung his head. "That's what I thought. Now if you don't mind, I _really _don't want to talk about me. Frankly I hate the fact that it ever happened and if it weren't for the fact that I _need_ blood to stay alive, I would rather just forget the whole thing."

"What does it taste like?"

"Draco!"

"Fine, fine," muttered Draco. "You can't blame me though, you know. After all, it was quite a shock to see Harry Potter _off_ the good Headmaster and then proclaim that he's a vampire."

"A little discretion would be wise, Draco. The walls have ears."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Alright, I get your point. Let's talk about something else. I'm thinking about trying out for Gryffindor seeker."

"You'd never beat me," Harry stated. "And the team's full anyway, so there won't be any trials, I don't think."

"Knew you'd say that," Draco said glumly, downing another mouthful of Firewhisky and letting out a loud belch. Rather undignifying and un-Malfoyish, Harry mused. He sighed.

"Look, it'll all be over soon, and you can go back to being Draco Malfoy, and go back to Slytherin, okay? Just bear with me, all right."

"Are you serious?" asked Draco. "Is it really nearly all over?"

"Well, I guess. I hope, anyway."

"You're going to kill him?"

"Yes."

"Because you're the Chosen One?"

"Merlin, Draco! Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?"

"But its true isn't it?"

"If you're referring to me being the subject of the Prophecy, then yes. I already told you about that, I thought. You're just trying to annoy me."

"It _is _amusing."

"I think you've had enough Firewhisky, Draco."

"You're right. I'm losing my edge, aren't I?"

"What edge would that be?"

"You know- my 'cool, superior, suave, sexy, all-the-girls-would-die-for-me' edge."

"You _are _pissed. Totally and utterly wasted."

"The wastrel and the Dark creature," Draco sighed. "What a pair."

Harry rolled his eyes and muttered a sobering charm that he'd used countless times on Dean.

"What was that for?" asked Draco. "I was feeling quite good about myself then."

"I'd rather you didn't go mouthing off about anything we've talked about," replied Harry.

"Hmm. You know that Schwartz woman really is a piece of work, isn't she?"

"How so?" asked Harry wearily, glad for a change of topic.

"Well, for one, she's utterly obsessed with you, but seems to be at least a half-way decent teacher. Don't you think that's odd?"

"Not really," said Harry, the reference to Defence reminding him of something. "Do you want to join the DA?"

"Ah, the woes of being Harry Potter," mocked Draco. "Having aging women drooling over you…and as for your stupid little tête-à-têtes, no. Seems like a poncy little club, if you ask me."

"You'll be all alone tonight if you don't," said Harry, knowing Draco's words weren't heartfelt. The young Malfoy was simply trying to hang onto the dregs of the life he had lived in Slytherin.

"Well, if I must," said Draco airily. "Look, I'll see you in Potions. I've got somewhere to be."

"Where?" asked Harry suspiciously. "You're not supposed to know your way around yet."

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry as he stood and waltzed to the door.

"If you must know, I'm meeting someone."

"Who?" burst out Harry, surprised. Draco stuck his head back in the door, a sly look on his face.

"For me to know and you to find out," he said, winking, and he disappeared down the stairs, ignoring Harry's entreaties for a name.

_For goodness sake_, thought Harry. _He's been here two days._

**oOoOo**

_Potter, _

_The Dark Lord is moving quickly. Now is the time to prepare. _

**oOoOo**

_My Lord, _

_Action against the Dark Lord is strongly advised and highly encouraged. Your aid is accepted with great gratitude. _

_Lord V'Ardian_

**oOoOo**

_King Variel, _

_The time when your services will be needed is drawing ever closer. Should you need it, you are always welcome at Hogwarts. _

_Harry Potter_

**oOoOo**

Harry leant against the cold stone wall, looking out at the view of the lake. A cool wind drifted smoothly around him, caressing his bare skin. He sighed. It was so peaceful up here. The full moon made his pale skin glow in stark contrast to his hair, reflecting in his eyes.

"You spent far too much time up here, Harry," said a voice from behind him. He turned around and Katherine slipped her arms around him.

"It gives me time to think," he replied.

"At one o'clock in the morning?"

"I don't sleep much," he said. She knew that. "What are you doing up here anyway?"

"I couldn't sleep either. I'm so worried about my father. And I knew you'd be here."

Harry wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.

"Everything's happening so quickly," he murmured. "I feel like I'm losing control of the situation."

"I heard that there was an attack against the Dark Lord yesterday. Apparently vampires were responsible. That doesn't sound like you're losing control to me."

Harry shrugged.

"I feel like any day now, someone's going to find out that it was _me_ who killed Dumbledore and it'll all have been for nothing."

Katherine sighed and pulled back to look him in the eye.

"It will all be fine," she said emphatically. "I'm sure of it."

Her encouragement did nothing to assuage his fears, but he was grateful nonetheless. He slipped his hand under her chin and tilted her head, pressing her lips to his. She stepped closer to him, her arms twining around his neck.

This, Harry thought, was bliss. He felt her body, so close and warm, and wanted nothing more than to show her how much he loved her, but he knew that this wasn't the time. When it was all over, if everything turned out; that would be the time. After he'd told Ron and Hermione, and they didn't have to hide anymore.

Her lips were so soft under his, and she tasted so sweet, and he wished he could stay like this forever.

"Do you need-"

"No," Harry murmured, cutting her off. "I just want to kiss you."

Katherine smiled and drew his mouth back down to hers.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: This chapter was short, but it's more of a filler than anything else. It's all starting to come together, though. Only a few chapters to go! Thanks to everyone who's review. You're support is greatly appreciated. I apologise for the slow updates recently but I have been so _unbelievably_ busy. But it's here now, so please review! And read my new story, Darkness Be My World. I think it's quite good- Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 35: Of Discoveries and Draco**


	35. Of Discoveries and Draco

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 35**

**Of Discoveries and Draco**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

"Do you ever regret it?" Harry asked quietly, looking at Draco as he stared out of the window. His expression was melancholy; he seemed anxious and upset.

"Regret what?" he asked, turning dark eyes on Harry, who shrugged slightly.

"Not following your father. It must be hard."

Draco turned back to the window with a sigh.

"I regret that he isn't with me. Even though I despise his values and his beliefs, I love him because he's my father. But I couldn't do what he does."

Harry nodded.

"I don't think I could have done that," he said quietly. Draco snorted.

"You would have," he said, sounding sure of himself. Harry didn't answer him.

"You were out late last night," Draco said after a while.

"I don't sleep much. One of the perks…"

"It would be an advantage," Draco acknowledged.

"Had a bit of a chat with Katherine, too," said Harry, smirking.

"A chat, eh?" Draco grinned. "Had a bit of chat myself, last night."

"With who?" Harry asked, sitting up. "You can't tell me you've coerced some poor student into snogging you already."

"Oh, I have my ways," said Draco, arching an eyebrow with a mischievous smile.

"Tell me who it is," Harry demanded, getting suspicious. "What's so bad about them that you can't tell me?"

Draco sighed as though he had been severely put-upon.

"Promise not to kill me?" he asked. Harry laughed.

"You're snogging my sister, aren't you!" he burst out. "You sly bastard!"

"I can't believe how low I've sunk," Draco lamented, and then added hastily, "Not that Emily's _low _or anything. But she's…"

"A Gryffindor?"

"Yes, that's the word. Knew it rhymed with scum."

Harry laughed and stood up, clapping Draco on the shoulder.

"I'm proud of you, Draco. I couldn't ask for any more."

Draco allowed himself a small, quick smile, hiding it from Harry.

"You sound like you should be an adult," he said, and Harry shrugged.

"Come one, let's go. We're meeting the other three and going down to the lake."

"But I'll get dirty! I just washed my hair. And my hands-"

"Don't worry Alex. I'll buy you some gloves for your birthday and you won't have to worry about a thing."

"But I'll look like a pansy!"

"The trials of Draco," sighed Harry dramatically. "If only we understood…"

"Git," muttered Draco, punching Harry as he walked past.

"Ow!" protested Harry. "You really didn't have to do that you know…"

**oOoOo**

Harry sat stiffly in Dumbledore's office – McGonagall's office, he reminded himself firmly – fidgeting distractedly. It had suddenly hit him that this was the first time he would be revealing everything to someone who had not found out on their own. This was someone who might not understand his motivations; someone who might not forgive so easily. Swallowing lightly, he looked up to meet Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze, his hands clenched tightly together under the desk.

McGonagall's expression seemed to shift, and she smiled slightly.

"So, Harry, you wanted to speak to me about something?" she asked. Her expression became serious once again and Harry nodded curtly, clearing his throat.

"Yes. There are…things you need to know. You're not going to like those things, Professor, but you have to know that there was no other way. They were things that were beyond anyone's control, and-"

"Harry, stop. You're not making any sense. What are you talking about?"

Harry took a deep breath and clenched his fists.

"Alright. Alright. I'll start with the most important things first. Voldemort is getting stronger. You know that, and I know that. He had never been more powerful than he is now. His attacks are getting worse, closer together. He has more followers and it is getting harder and harder to track his movements." _And I know he's stronger because it's getting harder and harder to control the bits of him that are inside me._ "I suppose the first thing you need to know is that Snape didn't kill Dumbledore."

Professor McGonagall leant forward, her face paling in shock.

"Severus is innocent? How do you know these things, Harry? You told the Wizengamot that he was guilty at Draco Malfoy's trial!"

Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Snape has been spying for me. At the time of Dumbledore's death, Voldemort was beginning to distrust him; if he believed that Snape helped in Dumbledore's murder, his position as a spy would be guaranteed. I'm only telling you now because if anything happens to me, someone needed to know."

McGonagall nodded, her hands clenched just as tightly as Harry's now.

"If Severus did not kill Albus," she asked, "then who did?"

Harry felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

"Did Dumbledore ever tell you, before he died, that there was a second prophecy that concerned Voldemort?"

Professor McGonagall nodded sharply.

"He showed it to me, just a few days before-"

Harry nodded.

"The prophecy stated that someone would return Voldemort to his rightful power. You know that there was only one person stopping Voldemort from becoming as strong as he could."

"Albus."

"Yes."

"So… the Lord of V'Ardian killed Albus?"

Harry took a deep breath and nodded, averting his eyes.

"Yes. But you should also know that the Lord of V'Ardian is someone you can trust. They aren't on Voldemort's side, as he believes they are."

Professor McGonagall leant forward even further, surprise evident in her tone.

"You know who they are? Albus said he never knew…"

"Because I never told him," replied Harry. "Dumbledore never knew, not until the very end. By then it was too late for it to be any other way. Everything just…came together at that particular time. It sounds so clichéd and everything, but it was destiny."

"Albus…Albus knew the person who murdered him? You said-"

"Yes," Harry interrupted. "Dumbledore knew the person who murdered him. Everyone who was there that night knew."

"And you were there that night?"

Harry nodded and looked up at Professor McGonagall with hollow eyes. Now was the time to tell her, and all he could do was hope for the best and pray that she would forgive him.

"I am Lord V'Ardian. I killed Dumbledore. I had no choice."

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened and her face paled. Her hand covered her mouth and she leaned back, staring at him in horror. Harry saw the betrayal and the fear in her eyes even before she felt it, but when she did, she stood up, hatred oozing from her very being.

"Get out of this school, Mr Potter. You are no longer welcome here." She raised a shaking hand to point at the door. Her attitude hit Harry like a thunderbolt, even though he had been prepared for such an outcome. Maybe, he thought, he had gone about telling her the wrong way. But out of the school? How could he do that? How could _she_ do that? Another thought occurred to Harry. Maybe this was it. Maybe it was time. Time to accept that everything had come to a head, and from now on, things were going to start going down hill.

He stood slowly and turned to face her.

"I'm leaving," he told her, his voice flat. "But just listen for a minute. Know that I had no choice in what I did, and I didn't enjoy it. You can still trust me. You have to trust me. The war will be over soon, but I can't guarantee that it will be us who wins. I'll try my hardest, but I need you to prepare the Order. You have the aid of the elves if you need it, and the V'Ardian clan has also pledged their allegiance. In the end though, it will be up to me. I have to kill Voldemort, no one else. Please remember. I don't want anyone else to die because they think they have a chance at destroying him."

Harry walked slowly back from her as she glared at him.

"I'm going to say goodbye to my sister and my friends now. I'll be gone within an hour."

When she didn't answer, Harry turned and walked from the office, his spirits low. When he reached the bottom of the staircase he started running, heading as fast as he could for the Slytherin common rooms. The giant stone snake that guarded the entrance let him in as soon as he asked permission, something for which he had never been more grateful.

He flung open that door and dashed inside, looking around for Katherine. He ran over and grabbed her before anyone had realised that a Gryffindor had invaded their sanctuary, and dragged her out into the corridor.

"Come on," he said, grabbing her arm. "I'll explain in a minute."

They ran up to Gryffindor tower, and to Harry's great relief, Draco was sitting in front of the fire with Ron, Hermione and Emily. They looked up as Harry approached, and Ron sneered.

"Harry! What's she doing here? She's a-"

"Don't say it, Ron," snapped Harry. "There's no time."

The four of them stood up to meet Harry and Katherine, Ron looking at Katherine suspiciously. Harry grabbed Ron's hand and put it over Katherine's, forcing Ron to look at him.

"Listen to me, Ron. This is Katherine. Katherine Snape."

Ron's expression of distaste deepened, and Hermione let out a small 'oh' of surprise. Ron made to say something but Harry interrupted him.

"No, Ron. You have to listen now, okay? Her mother is Evelyn Prewett, do you understand? She's your cousin, Ron. I need you to look after her."

Ron stared at Katherine with dawning comprehension, but Harry had no time to wonder about their family politics.

"Harry, what's going on?" asked Hermione. Harry drew her into a hug.

"I have to go, 'Mione." He pulled back clasped Ron on the shoulder. "See you soon, mate."

He turned to Emily and Draco.

"McGonagall's kicked me out, Draco. I had to tell her. I have to go to-"

"She's what?" screeched Hermione.

"What did you have to tell her?" asked Emily, bewildered.

"What did you just call Alex?" asked Ron.

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair again.

"Guys, this is Draco Malfoy, not Alex Grey. You can trust him, but I don't have time to explain. I have to go. Draco can you explain to them, please?"

"Everything?" he asked weakly, and Harry nodded firmly.

"Yes, everything. The good and the bad."

Harry drew Emily into a hug, and clapped Draco firmly on the shoulder. He turned to Katherine and placed a fierce kiss on her lips, eliciting a gasp from Hermione. He turned and gave the rest of them a weak smile, bid them goodbye, and ran up to his dorm. He packed quickly; his Cloak, and a few vials of potion and other things he might need. He placed them all in his bag and jumped on his Firebolt. He directed it out the window, and in seconds, he was gone.

**oOoOo**

Harry breathed deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves. He marvelled at how quickly the last half hour had gone; at how much is life had been altered in that short amount of time. If he was truly honest with himself, he would have said that he really hadn't expected Professor McGonagall to act the way she did. Not that he didn't deserve it, but…well, what could he say? He _had _killed Dumbledore, and he _had_ lied about it before. He would be lucky if McGonagall trusted him in the end.

Why did life have to be so damned hard and complicated? Harry grew angry at the unfairness of it all, before forcing calmness upon himself. No point getting upset about something that had already happened, after all. No, that was right. Accept what's happening. Accept all the crap, because there's no way it's going to be any other way. Accept your destiny.

Harry took a deep breath. His thoughts were jumping all over the place, and he couldn't afford not to be clear about things right now. Clarity of mind was what would get him through the next few days, weeks, months…however long it took. So he cleared his mind and looked around. Darkness surrounded him. There were no stars- just the roiling underbelly of the black clouds and the black ground beneath him. Everything was black.

**oOoOo**

Harry hadn't seen the dank little flat at Spinner's End before, but he'd heard about it. Her father's English home, Katherine had said; where he stayed when he wasn't with her. It had been where he lived as a child, the best place his Muggle father had been able to afford, until his mother's father had passed away and left her the Prince family manor.

It was not the kind of place that Harry would have expected Snape to live in. Granted, it was reclusive, and unknown by the ministry, and was therefore probably the safest place for Snape to be.

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak closer around him in an attempt to ward of the bitter cold. He desperately hoped that Snape would be here. He moved slowly, wary of wards, wincing as the gate whinged as he opened it. He closed it slowly behind him and started up the short concrete path. The garden was in disarray; weeds sprouted in profusion from every conceivable crevice, and any domesticated plants had long since run wild. The path was cracked an broken in many places, and Harry nearly tripped on a protruding piece of it.

The house itself was the epitome of despair, in Harry's eyes at least. Against the dull grey sky and the lightly falling rain, the flat in Spinners End made for a depressing sight. The windows were a smoky grey, and heavy curtains covered them like shuttered eyes. The rendering on the outside was cracked and missing in some places. Where it had once been white or cream, it was now blacked with grime and soot from the city, mould trailing up from the ground. A shingle lay on the ground, and looking up, Harry could see that many more were missing from the edge.

No, this was the last place Harry would have expected Snape to reside.

Debris crunched beneath his feet as he made his way silently up the path, and he stopped hesitantly before the door, wondering if McGonagall had reported him by now. Raising his hand, he pulled the knocker back and rapped smartly on the door. He stepped back to wait, but a minute passed and there was no answer. He tried again, and then a third time, but still Snape did not come.

_Maybe he's not home_, Harry thought desperately. _Or maybe he just doesn't like visitors._

Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew his wand.

"Alohomora," he whispered. As he had expected, there was no answering click, but a strange tingling feeling enveloped his body.

_Oh no_, he thought. _Vindictive bastard! What's he done now?_

Feeling as though he had gone in over his head, but seeing no other way, he tried a stronger unlocking charm. It rebounded off of the door and hit him in the stomach, momentarily stealing his breath from him.

"Merlin, Snape," he gasped out, holing a hand over his stomach as he wheezed. He looked around. There had to be a better way in than this. Straightening up, Harry left the path and made his way through the knee-high weeds to the side of the house. A narrow path separated the house from the fence, and Harry squeezed down beside it. As he went, an odd sensation enveloped him, and he had the sudden urge to go elsewhere.

_Ah, Muggle repelling charms_, he thought. _I'm finally getting somewhere._

He had to fight for a moment not to turn and run as he began remembering very important things that he was missing at this very moment, and had he not understood the nature of these wards, he probably would have done so. The weeds grew higher, seemingly pushing him backwards, but he struggled past them and found himself in a minute courtyard surrounded by a rotting wooden fence that blocked out the view of the neighbouring slums. The small area was grassed, but it was uncared for, and the bird bath that provided the centre decoration was mouldy and filled with filth.

He ignored everything there and headed straight for the door, and the urgent feelings vanished from him. Not willing to try any more spells, he raised his hand and knocked loudly. A moment passed, and then out of the corner of his eye he saw the curtain on the window shift slightly and fall back into place, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Snape was home.

"Snape," he said quickly, and hopefully loudly enough. "Open the door, please."

He hoped Snape was alone, but felt safe in assuming that he was, given the amount of trouble he was having getting in. Suddenly the door in fron of Harry swung open to reveal Snape. He looked wary; his wand pointed directly at Harry and his eyes darted around.

"Who's there?" he barked.

"Are you alone?" Harry asked. If Snape recognised his voice, he didn't acknowledge it.

"Incarcerous," he muttered. Ropes flew out to bind Harry, and he didn't fight them.

"It's really me, Snape," he said. Snape scowled and reached out, finding the cloak and dragging it away from Harry's face. Harry knew he would have to make the first move. "I swear on my life and on my magic that I am Harry Potter, Lord of V'Ardian, and I wish you know harm," he stated, and a silver swirl surrounded him and confirmed his vow. Snape relaxed, and the ropes binding Harry disappeared.

Harry stepped past Snape into the dim room beyond, and Snape closed the door.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. He looked ill; his cheeks were pale and bags sat beneath his eyes.

"McGonagall kicked me out," Harry said simply, and Snape looked surprised.

"You told her? Why?"

Harry shrugged.

"Because there isn't much time left. I would rather she found out from me than from someone else."

Snape nodded and gestured for Harry to move into the next room. A light was on, casting a yellow glow over the threadbare furniture. Snape sat in a well-used lounge chair in front of the fire, and Harry took the one across from him. It was lumpy and worn, but comfortable.

"How is Katherine?" he asked softly, his gaze searching. Harry allowed his own gaze to travel to the fire, entranced by the flickering yellow and orange.

"Draco is looking after her, and Ron and Hermione. I had to tell them."

Snape made an odd sound of disapproval in his throat, and Harry looked up at him.

"Ron knows," he said. "There is no place she will be safer. The Weasley's value family."

Snape's face was expressionless, but slowly he nodded, and his gaze drifted to the fire as well.

"My family and Evelyn's family…they had been arguing for as long as I can remember. A family feud, started goodness knows when. No one approved of our relationship, so we kept it a secret. Eventually…Evelyn left her family to join me. I believe that is why Molly has never been comfortable around me. I think they believed that I had forced her into it, or used the Dark Arts to coercing her into loving me."

"Ron had no idea that anything happened between you and his Aunt. From what I've gathered, discussing her was something of a taboo thing in their household."

"A skeleton in their closet…" Snape said quietly. Harry made a noise of agreement, and they sat in silence for a minute. It was odd, having a conversation like this with Snape. He had never imagined Snape would let down his guard around him, but he supposed it had been inevitable, with the amount that they had been forced to trust each other. Suddenly Harry realised that it was easy to trust Snape now. He wasn't doing it because he had to, but because he could.

"What are your plans now?" asked Snape. Harry shrugged, staring into the flames.

"There's nothing left to do. I can either wait for him to make his move, or I can go after him on my own. Either way, it will have to be soon."

"Why do you say that?" asked Snape sharply. Harry looked up at him with shadowed eyes.

"I told you about his Horcruxes?"

"Yes," confirmed Snape. Two glasses and a bottle had appeared before him, and he filled them both to the brim and handed one to Harry. He took it gratefully.

"I haven't been able to destroy them. I was afraid that if I tried, I would end up like Dumbledore…dying from the attempt."

"You told me you had destroyed them," stated Snape, turning his piercing gaze on Harry.

"In a manner of speaking," replied Harry. "The objects themselves are no longer Horcruxes, but the pieces of Voldemort's soul still exist."

"What are you saying, Potter?" demanded Snape. Harry took a deep breath.

"I have a favour to ask of you," said Harry.

"I take it this has something to do with the Horcruxes?"

"It's the reason I came here," replied Harry blandly. He raised his gaze to meet Snape's. "I believe that what I'm about to ask you is something similar to what Dumbledore might have asked you."

Snape's face drained of colour and he placed his glass sharply down upon the wooden side table.

"Why?" he demanded sharply.

"Because I couldn't destroy Voldemort's soul," said Harry loudly, "so I transferred it. At this very moment, there is more of Voldemort contained within me than there is within him, and I don't know how much longer I can control it for. _That _is why."

Snape's eyes flashed in anger and confusion, and something else that Harry couldn't quite name.

"You fool!" he spat. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because it was the only way," replied Harry crossly.

"How?" Snape asked, his voice going hoarse. He stared at Harry in something akin to horror, and Harry was suddenly strongly aware of his heart thumping in his chest, and of the blood pounding in his ears. This was something that he hadn't told _anyone_, something that he had barely even admitted to himself.

"How?" he asked, mimicking Snape. "Because I was Voldemort's last Horcrux. I doubt that even he realises it. He made me that night in Godric's Hollow, when he died and I survived. That is why we are connected, not because of this scar," he said, rubbing furiously at the thing that marred his forehead. "Because I already shared a part of his soul, it was easy to do it. The soul wants to be whole, and I was bringing parts of it together."

"How much…"

"How much of me is him?" asked Harry hollowly, giving a small, mirthless laugh. "Dumbledore destroyed the ring. Regulus Black destroyed the piece of his soul that resided in Hogwarts. Nagini is a Horcrux; I know, because I once saw through her eyes. Voldemort holds the last piece of his soul. I am a Horcrux, and I also hold the soul that was in the remaining two Horcruxes."

"And you say you are having trouble controlling _it_," said Snape. "What is _it_, exactly?"

Harry shrugged.

"The more of him I take in, the longer it's there, the more I feel…vindictive, hateful, murderous. I feel what he's feeling even when I'm awake. And I have these…urges…"

"Urges?" prompted Snape, and Harry nodded, no longer meeting his eyes.

"To kill. To torture. Part of me feels like I'd enjoy it, if I did. Sometimes I'm not even sure who I am anymore- how much is me and how much is him. It's getting hard to separate the two."

"And so you are asking me-"

"When the time comes, Professor, it has to be done. You know it has to. I will kill Nagini, and then I will kill Voldemort." Harry looked up into Snape's dark eyes, searching for those unfathomable thoughts and wondering if he could really ask this of this man. "And then you will kill me."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: I wasn't going to end there. I had so much planned out, but when I wrote that, I just had to stop. I'll put the rest in the next chapter though. Please review! I'd really like to know if you like it or not – Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 36: Of Redemption and Respect**


	36. Of Redemption and Respect

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 36**

**Of Redemption and Respect**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

"Come on, Snape. Immortality? Who wants that?" asked Harry wearily.

"A great many people would kill for that opportunity, as you well know," replied Snape dryly.

"But not me," said Harry firmly. "I don't want to live as a vampire for the rest of my life. I don't want to watch all of my friends grow old and die while I live on."

"So you would rather die?" asked Snape pointedly. Harry hesitated.

"I don't want to live forever," Harry repeated.

"It won't be forever, Harry," said Snape quietly. "Even vampires do not have that ability."

"But a thousand years would seem like forever," said Harry glumly. "I don't think I could do it."

Snape and Harry sat in silence, the firelight flickering warmly over their features.

"And what happens if I come through this, only to be incriminated for the things I've done?" asked Harry eventually, his tone somewhat defensive. "People have been quick to judge me before, and this time the things they say are going to be true."

Snape studied Harry for a moment, before inclining his head slightly.

"It is – a chance you will have to be prepared to take," he said haltingly. "But remember that the Ministry is on your side now. Arthur Weasley would do anything to protect you."

"Would he?" Harry cut in. "If he had the pressure of the public behind him, would he? If he knew that it was me who killed Dumbledore, would he then? Arthur Weasley is a man of the truth, Snape. I don't want him to abandon his principles because of me."

"Oh, stop being so noble," sneered Snape. "Arthur Weasley would do anything to save you, Potter, and _that_ is because he is a good man. He will understand the circumstances, and damn his principles if it means you will be condemned."

"But I killed Dumbledore," persisted Harry. "No matter what, it all comes back to that, and murder is inexcusable in most people's eyes. And for it to be Dumbledore- some would consider it the ultimate sin."

"It had to be done," said Snape emotionlessly. Harry felt anger creep into his heart and he stood up abruptly.

"But I killed him, Snape. I raised my wand and cast the Killing Curse. I took his life in cold blood! And I know it was wrong! How can I ask people to accept what I did when I can't even accept it myself?" he yelled. He whirled around, striding angrily through the small room. "I'm sick of living like this, Snape! I want it to end and if I have to die for that to happen then so be it!"

"You cannot mean that," said Snape sharply.

Harry sat down again, burying his head in his hands.

"I don't know what I want anymore," he said quietly. "I hardly have a choice."

"You always have a choice," corrected Snape. Harry shook his head.

"You know how many times I've wondered if I should just give up? It all seems so _futile_, and I hate feeling like this! I want it all to end so much, but I know I _can't_ give up. I don't want to be the one with this responsibility."

"But you are."

"I know," said Harry softly. "I know."

"And what of Katherine?" asked Snape, his voice somewhat stilted. "You would not try, even for her?"

Harry sighed.

"That's the thing, though. There's no way I can't try. If I don't, Voldemort will win, and I won't have that hanging over me forever."

"Is that your only concern?" asked Snape, his voice holding an oddly threatening note. Harry looked up at him.

"I think I love her," said Harry, flushing slightly. It was hard talking to Snape about something like this.

"You think?" mocked Snape, and Harry's cheeks reddened further.

"I don't think I've ever really loved someone before," he said. "But I'm just not sure. I'm only seventeen…"

"I can assure you, Potter, she feels the same way."

"No matter how much you despise the fact?" Harry asked, his lips quirking upwards.

"Precisely," replied Snape blandly.

Was it fair, Snape wondered, that a seventeen year old boy should be forced to choose between life and death? Was it fair that anyone had to? Who had the right to force such decisions upon people? Snape marvelled that this young man had come so far. So much had happened in the past months, so much that had caused him to change his opinion. He had to admit that the things Albus had said to him weren't so untrue after all; he and Harry Potter weren't so different.

This fact irked him not because he disliked Harry Potter, but because people said that Potter was like the Dark Lord in some ways. Logically, this implied that Severus, too, was like the Dark Lord. It was a distinction he did not want to think of, for it was one of the things that had originally drawn him to Tom Riddle.

Snape pondered the situation they found themselves in; they, being himself and Harry Potter. He had never thought he would ever look upon the boy civilly, nor the other way around, but he found that that was exactly the situation they found themselves in. Harry Potter was, in retrospect, a determined, capable young man; albeit one who was sometimes overly and aggravatingly dense.

Snape stopped his train of thought before he unwittingly complimented the boy. This boy who was currently doing Merlin-knew-what with his daughter, and endangering her life as a result. Snape scowled.

"What?" asked Harry, looking wearily up at Snape. He looked tired, maybe ill. Snape scowled further and shook his head curtly.

"Nothing," he muttered, in, Harry thought, a very un-Snape-like way. "Though I suppose you do have quite a bit to answer for; you are right in that respect. On the other hand, no one could begrudge you for doing away with the Dark Lord, no matter what else you have done."

"That makes me feel much better," replied Harry sarcastically.

"It will all turn out in the end, Potter, you will see."

"I hope so," whispered Harry. "I hope so."

**oOoOo**

"You can't be serious!" shouted Ron.

"Save it, Weasley," drawled Draco. "I've told you everything just as he told it to me, and I can assure you that it's quite true."

"It is," confirmed Katherine. "I've known for…quite some time now that he's a vampire."

"But why didn't he tell us?" whispered Hermione tearfully.

"He didn't want to tell anyone," said Draco, "but he really didn't have much of a choice when we found out."

"He really killed Dumbledore?" questioned Hermione, and Katherine nodded sadly.

"He had no choice, Hermione. It was Dumbledore's time. Do you remember when Dumbledore was sick earlier in the year?"

"Yes."

"He would have died then, if Harry hadn't saved him. And Harry hated what he had to do, he really did. He hasn't even forgiven himself for it and I doubt he's going to, so don't be too hard on him."

"But he killed Dumbledore," echoed Ron faintly.

"And thank Merlin you'll never have to do anything like that in your life Ronal Weasley," said Katherine, glaring at him.

"Blimey," muttered Ron. "You have no idea how much you look like _him_ when you do that."

"My father, you mean?" asked Katherine.

"Urgh," assented Ron, before changing the topic. "How long have you known that we're…related?"

"Since Harry pulled me in here and told me," said Katherine. "I knew my mother was named Evelyn, but apart from that I had nothing else to go on. My father refused to speak of her."

"Bast- I mean…jeez…" murmured Ron. "I always wondered why my mum hated Snape so much. She never talked about it, but we all knew it must have been something bad, because she _never_ held grudges…"

Hermione shot Ron a condescending look.

"Close your mouth _now_, Ron," she said coldly, and Ron closed it, abashed.

"Well, I guess…if you're family…and if Harry trusts you…then you can stay with us…"

"Of course you can stay with his family if you have to," stated Hermione assuredly. "Mrs Weasley would be thrilled to know she has a niece, I'm sure."

Ron nodded, and Hermione turned to him, grinning.

"Now, Ron, you have to be careful. Katherine is your cousin. You're not allowed to say things about her any more…"

Ron blushed deeply, remembering his words when he had first seen Katherine.

"But I didn't _know_ she was my cousin then!" he exclaimed defensively. "And she looked different then, as well!"

Draco rolled backwards, laughing hard.

"Oh, Weasley! What a story!"

"One word, Malfoy!" warned Ron furiously. "I don't care _what _Harry thinks of you, I swear I'll-"

"You'll what?" mocked Draco. "Please, Weasley, you _like_ me, I know you do! Just because my name's changed doesn't mean I have." He lowered his voice a little and looked at the ground. "And for what it's worth…you're not too bad yourself."

Hermione looked between the two with wide eyes. Ron stared stubbornly at Draco for a second, but then reached out his arm and clasped Draco's hand in a firm shake.

Hermione and Katherine smiled across their clasped hands.

_For Harry_, they thought. _For Harry_.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't updated for so long, but I've been so busy. Yr 12 is so hectic! Only one or two chapters to go…:) During the break from this story I wrote another one-shot called "Only a Fairytale" – read it! Thanks for those who have stuck with me for so long and review – Wujjawoo**

**Chapter 37: Of Feelings and Finality**


	37. Of Feelings and Finality

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 37**

**Of Feelings and Finality**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Kali09 – thanks for the review. Unfortunately…I'm not sure what planet you're from, but on my side of it, school is still on :( As a result, there will be little writing from me for a few weeks. Two until the holidays. Hopefully this chapter will keep everyone going until then…

**oOoOo**

"Hello, Isautier," Harry said, smiling coldly. He schooled his face into a calm mask as Isautier spun around.

"Harry Potter," he said. "I did not hear you coming."

"One of the perks," said Harry quietly, smoothing a hand over his neck. Isautier's eyes followed the movement and he nodded, hesitating.

"You are in need of something?"

"That depends," replied Harry. "I don't know if you have what I need."

Harry turned from Isautier to look out over the raging ocean that thrashed violently against the rocks at the base of the cliff. Despite the coldness of the scene, the dreariness of the surroundings, and the unpleasant screech of gulls, Harry felt somewhat relaxed, not on edge as he had been all week. He followed the path of a white gull as it soared overhead, riding the wind currents until it came to a rest upon the water.

"Actually," he said, turning back to the V'Ardian Prince. "I know that you have what I need. Whether you will give it to me, though, is another matter."

Isautier stood silently, patiently. He knew that Harry would speak when he was ready. Harry looked out at the ocean again, words forming in his mind. He took a deep breath as he recalled why he was here, what he had seen.

"Voldemort is going to attack, Isautier, and he is going to do it soon. Your father pledged alliance, but he won't fight; you know it as well as I. But _you_ – well, you owe me."

Isautier scowled.

"You are asking _me_ to fight, in my father's place," he stated.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "You, and anyone else who is loyal to you."

"When?" asked Isautier, his voice hard. Harry could not tell his feelings on the subject.

"In three nights," he replied. "On Sunday evening, Voldemort intends to take Hogwarts. He has the Ministry, as you well know; the school is the next most important site in Britain."

"It is impossible!" exclaimed Isautier. "Hogwarts has countless protections in place!"

"Voldemort is a great wizard, Isautier. He has far greater numbers than us – we must outweigh him in skill if we are to be successful."

"You really think you will succeed?" asked Isautier, his voice hushed. Harry looked up to the grey sky and closed his eyes, feeling the wind whip through his hair. He opened his eyes and looked directly at Isautier.

"I have no choice," he said. "If I fail, the wizarding world is doomed. After them, the Muggles will follow. In three days time, I will take Voldemort's life, I can assure you of that."

Isautier stared at Harry for a moment and then nodded sharply.

"I will gather those I can."

"Good. Bring them to Hogwarts as soon as you can. We're going to need all the time we can get to prepare."

"Are we your only allies?" asked Isautier curiously.

Harry smiled.

"Far from it, I think."

Isautier waited for more, but Harry said nothing and Isautier nodded.

"Very well, my Lord," he said. "I will see you in three days." And with that, the heir to the throne of V'Ardian left Harry solitary on the cliff top.

**oOoOo**

After two weeks, Harry was sorely missing Hogwarts. He stared up at the turrets silhouetted against the dawn sky and wished that he was truly welcomed there. He strode slowly up the grassy slope to the castle, watching ripples flow across the glassy surface of the lake. It was chilly this early in the morning, but Harry was too preoccupied to notice.

The wind whistled eerily through the trees in the Forbidden Forest, and Harry wondered if the elves were preparing to come to Hogwarts yet. He turned his gaze back to the castle. McGonagall would know that he was here by now; would have been alerted minutes ago to the presence of an intruder.

Harry's eyes slid over the upright stone that marked Dumbledore's grave and he shuddered, a sick feeling welling up inside him. He forced his eyes away and headed for the front doors of the castle. Before he got there though, they were opened, and Professor McGonagall and two Aurors stepped outside to meet him. He slowly mounted the steps, feeling uncomfortable under their unyielding gazes. He stopped when he reached their level, and spoke directly to Professor McGonagall, ignoring the presence of Moody and Shacklebolt.

"I appreciate you keeping things to yourself," said Harry. He glanced quickly at the two Aurors. "Present company excepted, of course. Am I allowed in? It's quite cold out here."

"You were banished from this school, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall coldly. "You have not been invited to return."

Harry looked up at her with barely concealed dismay, and decided to forego the pleasantries he had planned to include in this reunion. His expression hardened and he shrugged.

"I understand your hesitance, Professor, I really do, but I think you're going to want me here when Voldemort attacks."

Professor McGonagall's face paled, but she stared down at him suspiciously.

"What are you talking about, Potter?" asked Moody. "And how do we know we can trust you?"

"You can trust me," he said, still staring at Professor McGonagall, "because I want to see Voldemort gone just as much as you do. Let me stay here, just to fight, and let us work together. When the battle is over, and Voldemort is gone, then you can do whatever you want to me, but right now, what is important is the fact that Voldemort has an army and he is ready to use it."

"How do you know that?" asked Moody, both of his eyes firmly fixed on Harry.

"Because I can see into his head," spat Harry. "And I know that in two days time, he plans to march on Hogwarts. You know as well as I do that Hogwarts is the next big target. We all know he wants it for himself, and we all know that it was only a matter of time. The time has come, Professor," Harry said firmly. "And you must let me help."

"Like you helped Albus?" asked Professor McGonagall, a catch in her voice.

"I _had no choice!_" enunciated Harry, a slight ache in his throat. "Dumbledore was going to die that night, regardless of who carried out the deed. It was only fortunate that I was there to prevent Draco Malfoy or Snape from doing it!"

"Fortunate?" asked Shacklebolt, scepticism in his voice.

"Because of the prophecy, Kingsley," replied Harry, his voice steely. "It's always because of the prophecy."

"Minerva has shown us the prophecy, boy," said Moody. "It says nothing about you offing anyone but the Dark Lord."

"That," said Harry, "is because you haven't heard the _other_ prophecy."

"You can't hide behind some make-believe prophecy," stated Kingsley, while Professor McGonagall remained silent.

"Tell them, Professor," ordered Harry, and his tone left no room for argument. "Tell them what I told you before I left this place."

Professor McGonagall stared mercilessly down at him, and then suddenly she seemed to wilt.

"We will talk about this in my office," she said. She turned abruptly and hurried back inside, and Harry didn't hesitate to follow her. They hurried through the silent halls, they themselves just as quiet. Their footsteps echoed ominously off the walls, but Harry's heart felt lighter than it had in weeks.

_If I must feel like this_, he thought, _at least I can be at home to feel it._

Shacklebolt and Moody strode behind him, footsteps firm against the ground.

Harry had lost count of the number of times he had watched the stone gargoyle step aside to reveal the sliding staircase, but he looked at it now with a twinge of longing. He could remember the number of times he had come up here without Dumbledore waiting at the top.

Soon enough, the four of them arrived in the office, but only Professor McGonagall chose to sit.

"The prophecy," Moody prompted.

"Of course," said Professor McGonagall stiffly. She rose and went to the cupboard and removed the Pensieve. Without saying anything more, she tapped the silvery substance with her wand and the four of them watched in silence as Dumbledore's memory played again.

When it finished, Trelawney's revolving figure sank back into the swirling mixture and Professor McGonagall leant back wearily in her seat.

"So…this…Lord V'Ardian," murmured Moody. "You know who he is?"

Professor McGonagall gestured tiredly at Harry, and the two Aurors turned to face him.

"Have you not been listening?" asked Harry coldly.

"You cannot be Lord V'Ardian!" snapped Moody. "The idea is preposterous!"

Harry glared at the renowned Auror and bared his right forearm, where the mark of V'Ardian was engraved in his skin.

"I can assure you, Moody, that I am. I killed Dumbledore that night because I had to, not because I wanted to. Now if we are all done deciding whether I'm loyal or not, perhaps we could discuss the impending threat to Hogwarts."

Moody and Shacklebolt glance at each other and nodded.

**oOoOo**

Katherine let out a surprised gasp as he pulled her into the alcove and planted a deep kiss on her lips. She struggled for a moment before realising it was him, and then leaned into him with a moan.

He pulled back and smiled at her, running a hand through her dark hair.

"You're back," she smiled.

"Just this morning," he murmured, unable to keep the smile off his face. He traced the line of her jaw and across her lips before leaning down to kiss her again. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. She smiled against his lips and twined her hands around his neck.

"How long are you back for?"

Harry tensed slightly and she stepped back with a worried frown.

"What is it, Harry?"

He smiled sadly.

"Voldemort is going to attack Hogwarts, Katherine. This is going to be my last stand, one way or another."

He watched as she absorbed the meaning of his words and he smiled lightly.

"Come on," he said softly, taking her hand. "I have to go and see Emily and the others. Will you come with me?"

Katherine nodded and they stepped out into the corridor.

"We'll talk later," Harry promised.

**oOoOo**

"Harry!"

Emily ran over to him and flung her arms around him in joy. He hugged her back, looking over her shoulder at the Gryffindor common room. It had gone silent at his entrance, and now students sat staring at him unabashedly. Harry pulled back and nodded once at the students, and they looked away.

"Mind if we go somewhere more private?" he asked. Emily nodded.

"Ron, Hermione and Draco are upstairs. They'll be happy to see you."

They made their way up to the seventh year dorms, and Harry was amused to find Ron and Draco sitting next to each other on Ron's bed, with Hermione on the next one.

"I see you two have learned to get along," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

Hermione jumped up and wrapped him in a hug, and was followed a moment later by Ron.

"Hi guys," he murmured. Draco didn't hug him, but he did let a small smile through as he shook Harry's hand.

"Good to see you, Potter."

"And you, Draco," replied Harry.

The six of them sat on the two beds, and for a moment there was an awkward silence. Harry looked worriedly at Ron and Hermione. Despite their closeness, he still had misgivings about whether they still wanted to know him. After all, if their positions had been reversed… no one wanted to be friends with a murderer.

"So…"

"So I suppose you know all of my dark and dirty secrets now," Harry cut in. Ron and Hermione traded unsure glances ad nodded hesitantly. Harry smiled sadly. "I know that nothing I say will ever make it right," he said haltingly, "but if you two could forgive me…that'd be great."

"Course we will, mate," said Ron suddenly, a determined expression passing over his face. "We know you're not like that…we know if there'd been any other way, you would have taken it."

Hermione nodded fervently at his side. Harry felt some of the worry he had been harbouring slide away and happy relief overtook him. He thought that he should have had a little more faith in the two of them, but previous experience hadn't made him think that they would be so quick to forgive him. He let a wide smile cut across his face.

There was nothing else he could ask for.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: I know it's short, but I'm so busy you wouldn't believe (Busy disorganized?). Ah well. At least I got this much up. Please review! If you do you get a big battle scene. I don't tend to write battle scenes because they can be quite repetitive, but I have had requests…So it's in the works, along with a number of other stories. I've edited Darkness be my World, so it shouldn't have (m)any mistakes in it now. Am dying to resume Hatred is Harder to Bear, and am also considering writing a female Harry Potter series. Tell me is this is a good idea or not. I just had the idea because I haven't read any decent ones yet. Thanks for reading – Wujjwoo**

**Chapter 38: Of Expectations and Endings**


	38. Of Expectations and Endings

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 38**

**Of Expectations and Endings**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! A few things before this chapter…Firstly, I hope this battle scene is up to expectations. I don't tend to write them because I personally think they're a bit boring, but maybe that's just because I haven't come across a good one. As requested, I will have a summary (see below) of what has happened up to this point. I have the same problem of forgetting details in long stories if they're posted slowly, and I actually forgot some of the details while I was writing this :) Secondly, due to the popular opinion that there are few good female Harry Potter stories, I have decided to take up the challenge and write one! I sincerely believe I can make a decent go of it, so make sure to drop by and have a read! And Zed of Vesper…I _did_ consider female Harry/Draco, but have since ruled it out. It will be female Harry/OC :)

**oOoOo**

So…straight into it!

Chapter One saw Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore meeting in a muggle café to discuss something of great importance. The topic of discussion happened to be a prophecy, the second one made by Hogwarts' resident Divination professor, Sybil Trelawney. The prophecy in question described a person who would be of 'V'Ardian,' who would return Voldemort to his power. I wonder who it could be. Snape receives a visit from Bellatrix and Narcissa and pledges to protect Draco and fulfil his quest should he fail.

In Chapter Two we met Harry James Potter, who took a walk to the park. A vampire decided he looked good and decided to take a bite. Chapter Three saw Dumbledore arrive at Privet Drive to take Harry to Grimmauld Place. Harry discovers that the Dursleys only kept him in exchange for a memory charm when he left. He is very sad. They return to Grimmauld Place where Dumbledore explains what happened, and tells Harry that he bound his powers. Harry discovers the mark of V'Ardian on his arm. In Chapter Four, Harry finds an empty journal owned by Sirius and Regulus Black, and meets Katherine Winter. In Chapter five, Harry sees Draco Malfoy in Borgin and Burkes, and sees Lucius Malfoy talking to Katherine.

In Chapter Six, Harry marks Malfoy with wandless magic and realises he can see through glamour charms. Hagrid is murdered by Death Eaters. Harry discovers that Snape is investigating Lord V'Ardian. Snape is DADA teacher. In Chapter Seven, not much happens In Chapter Eight, Harry reads his letter addressed to Lord V'Ardian. He decides to start the DA again. In Chapter Nine, Harry buys a magical book and there is an attack on Hogsmeade. Tonks is acting oddly. Harry begins to feel sick and weak.

Harry starts using glamours to mask his appearance. At a DA meeting, Harry meets a Slytherin transfer student named Caydon Augustus, who seems familiar. Harry hears the prophecy about V'Ardian, and comes to the conclusion that it is himself. Harry forms a truce of sorts with Malfoy.

In Chapter ElevenThirteen, Bellatrix murders the Dursleys, and Harry confronts her. She dies. Harry dreams about green eyes.

Harry joins the Order. In Chapter Fifteen, Harry receives the Staff of the Immortals, and Katherine figures out his secret. In Chapter Sixteen, Harry finds out that it was Snape who told the prophecy to Voldemort. When he confronts him, Snape discovers Harry's secret. In Chapter Eighteen, Ginny, Neville and Katherine go missing. In Chapter Nineteen, Harry visits the vampires and gains their alliance. In Chapter Twenty, Harry goes to save Ginny, Neville and Katherine. He is captured in the process. Arthur Weasley becomes Minister for Magic. In Chapter Twenty-One, Harry tells Voldemort the prophecy. In Chapter Twenty-Two, Harry escapes. In Chapter Twenty-Three, Harry meets his sister. In Chapter 25, Harry makes Dumbledore better. In Chapter Twenty-Five, Harry discovers that Malfoy has a mission to kill Dumbledore. In Chapter Twenty-Seven, Harry has a chat with Snape and Malfoy. Malfoy skewers Harry with his broomstick and they have a heart-to-heart. By Chapter Thirty, Malfoy has found a way for Voldemort to get into Hogwarts, and Harry has set in motion a plan to fulfil the prophecy. Harry kills Dumbledore and finds the note from RAB. Harry destroys the first Horcrux. Harry removes part of Voldemort's soul from Caydon Augustus. Voldemort gains control of the Ministry.

In Chapter Thirty-Five, Harry has to leave Hogwarts and he goes to visit Snape. He asked Snape to kill him after he kills Voldemort. In Chapter Thirty-Seven, Harry returns to Hogwarts to prepare for the attack on Hogwarts.

And so the battle begins…

**oOoOo**

Harry tried to banish the lump in his throat, but it refused to move. He hadn't thought that saying goodbye would be so hard, but now that the time was here, no words were forthcoming. What did you say to the people you loved when you were preparing for what could be your last day on earth?

It was even harder, knowing the expectations that had been placed upon him. There was the ever-present expectation that he would defeat Voldemort, but underneath that there was the expectation that he would come back alive. He truly couldn't decide whether he would be able to fulfil that expectation.

None of them could really find the words to say goodbye, so they didn't speak at all. Harry hugged Hermione and kissed her cheek, smiling sadly as she began to cry. He hugged Ron and clasped his hand firmly between his, and pulled Draco into a firm hug as well. Emily cried as well, as he folded her into his embrace, and he felt a pang of regret. He had just found a family…Emily had just found a family, and now they might be torn apart again. Harry squeezed her tighter. He turned to Katherine and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She wasn't crying, and he knew she wouldn't until she was alone, but her eyes were sad. He prayed that she wouldn't see him die. He prayed that she wouldn't see who did it.

He pulled her close and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before pulling away. He stared into her eyes for a moment and then stepped back. His eyes travelled around the rest of them and then he turned, and a moment later, he was gone. As he descended the stairs into the Entrance Hall, Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the halls, urging students to move immediately to their common rooms. Harry looked around and saw that everyone must already be there; no one else moved in the stark stillness of the grey hall. He looked down the corridor that led to the dungeons and thought of Snape.

Outside, the sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly, reflecting off of the ripples in the lake. The giant squid basked in the shallow waters, and the scene appeared to Harry to be quite the wrong on in which a battle should be fought. Nonetheless, he felt the impending battle approaching, nervousness welling up inside him. Excitement that was not his coursed through his veins. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and the cold wind that whipped around him gave him goose bumps. The thrill of the imminent battle pounded in his chest in time with his heart, his being thrumming with tension. Harry stood watching the gates of Hogwarts. Had the enemy been anyone else, Harry would have been watching the whole perimeter of Hogwarts for some sign of invaders, but he knew that Voldemort thought himself above such subterfuge. Voldemort would march though the gates of Hogwarts as though he owned the place, and Harry expected nothing less.

He turned his gaze to the Forbidden Forest, where he knew the Elves waited. King Variel had been true to his word, and had assembled a massive army in preparation for their resistance. Isautier, too, had upheld his end of the deal, and a contingent of vampires stood by, ready and waiting. It was not long before Harry was joined on the steps by the Order. Professor McGonagall sealed the doors of the castle and took her place next to Harry.

"Well, Mr Potter," she said stiffly. Harry thought that things would never be the same between them again. "I suppose now all we can do is wait."

"He's coming, Professor. It won't be long now."

Harry looked down at her, suddenly realising that he was taller than the stern woman. She had always seemed so strong to him, but now he found himself considering himself superior to her. He forced the thought away, praying that it was not his own. Professor McGonagall's skin was pale, her lips pressed thinly together. She looked scared, but Harry could see the determination glinting in her eyes. Harry peered through the other members of the Order his eyes coming to rest on Remus. Remus' eyes met his, and he nodded slightly. He wondered if Remus knew what he had done. He smiled slightly and looked away. If he got the chance, he would talk to Remus later.

Harry felt a sudden stab of excitement roll through him and he shivered. The Dark Mark on his arm began to itch and he scratched it nervously. Professor McGonagall noticed his restlessness and looked up at him.

"He's coming?"

Harry nodded.

"Any minute now," he said. "We should spread out."

Professor McGonagall nodded and gave the command for the Order to move out. Harry remained beside her as everyone began moving about them. He wondered vaguely if Voldemort had guessed his identity yet. It wouldn't have taken him long to recognise the mark of V'Ardian, though Harry doubted that Voldemort would believe him to be the one who had killed Dumbledore.

A chilling shriek rolled up over the grass and echoed off of the castle, and people looked around in fear. In the distance, Harry saw the sky darkening as black clouds built up. They rolled forward towards Hogwarts, lightning flashing and thunder rolling. Shrieks and screams echoed from within the darkness and Harry thought that he could see odd demonic shapes swooping though the clouds. He looked closer, but they appeared to be nothing more than smoke themselves.

"Dog Soldiers," murmured professor McGonagall, a quiver in her voice. Harry looked at her sharply.

"I thought they were a legend!" he exclaimed.

"As did I," she replied drawing her wand.

"Do you know how to fight them?" asked Harry, staring up at the swooping figures with a hint of trepidation.

"I think, despite their appearance," said Professor McGonagall, "that they are harmless. I think they are merely…here for atmosphere."

"Ah," replied Harry.

_This is more like it, then_.

It took only a moment before someone let out a cry of surprise and pointed into the distance. Harry looked out over the grass and saw Voldemort's army.

"Good luck, Professor," said Harry sincerely. Without waiting for a reply, Harry moved down the steps and onto the grass, coming to the front of the assembled witches and wizards. He drew his wand, trembling slightly. He wouldn't pretend that he wasn't scared. Slowly the shapes in the distance sharpened into distinguishable figures, and Harry finally saw the strength of Voldemort's army. The order paled in comparison, and Harry felt infinitely relieved that they had the aid of the Elves and the vampires.

The approaching army drew to a halt, and Harry saw that Voldemort had far more Death Eaters than even Snape had said there were. Some no longer wore their masks, preferring to openly declare their allegiance to Voldemort. Beside them stood a group of men and women whom Harry identified as werewolves, and he sighed in disappointment. Their's would be lives needlessly lost. Beside the Death Eaters stood a number of creatures that Harry had only read about, and he thought with a pang of anger and nostalgia that Hagrid would have known how to defend against them.

But Hagrid was dead, killed by Voldemort, and Harry stood straighter, focussing on what needed to be done. Voldemort himself was nowhere to be seen, but Harry could feel his presence.

It was a moment before Harry realised that the ground was trembling, and another one before he understood that Voldemort must have found the giants, for it was only them that could make the ground shake as fiercely as it did now.

A few seconds later, Harry saw the first one, its head swaying high above the tree line. More and more appeared, lumbering slowly towards the castle, and Harry heard the Order members shuffling nervously behind him. Harry counted thirteen giants, and prayed that there were no more. As soon as they were within range, Professor McGonagall began issuing orders.

"Stunners, all together!" she shouted. "One, two, three!"

Fifty beams of red light shot towards various giants and the closest fell to the ground with a massive _thud_. Another one staggered to its knees with a roar, but it stood again and stumbled forwards even faster. Seeing the futileness of the Stunners, Harry pointed his wand at the ground and yelled, "_Tropico_!"

A thick green vine sprang from his wand and sped across the ground, growing with phenomenal speed. As the closest giant fell to the ground in unconsciousness, the vine crawled over its body and bound it in place, sending roots deep into the ground. Stems shot upwards, tendrils reaching up for the giants. Oblivious, they battled onwards, pushing through the spreading vine, and two more were dragged to their knees. They let out roars of rage, thrashing their arms, but the vine pulled them into submission. As more and more giants began to get trapped, the others began to back away, pulling out of the grip of the cloying green vine. A bright green beam sped past his head and Harry jumped, realising that the Death Eaters were attacking.

He ended the spell and dodged another colourful beam, running forwards with purpose. The creatures that the Death Eaters had been restraining lurched forward, fangs snapping and slavering. A Bludgeoning Curse from Harry took one out, but his momentary distraction cost him. What must have been Cutting Curse hit him, piercing his side and spattering blood across his side. He grunted in pain and sent a spell back at the Death Eater, disabling them. To his left, Harry saw a member of thee order locked in a duel with a Death Eater, and a moment later the witch fell to the ground, screaming under the Cruciatus Curse. The Death Eater stood over her, gloating with a malicious smile on his face, and Harry disarmed him and Stunned him.

He heard a snarl to his right and spun back around, a second before a giant snarling creature jumped upon him and pinned him to the ground. He hit the ground, winded, and winced as the creature's claws dug into his shoulders. Gasping for breath as a glob of drool slid down the creature's chin and onto his chest, Harry angled his wand upwards and cast a silent bludgeoning curse. The beast gave an odd yelping sound and lurched to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a Death Eater yell out, and dodged the curse that flew his way. His movement sent him closer to the creature and he stunned it before it could attack him again. Holding a hand to his shoulder, Harry turned to face the Death Eater.

"Potter," he growled. Harry recognised him immediately.

"Lestrange," he responded coldly. He raised his wand and Lestrange smiled cruelly.

"Not one to waste time with words, are you boy?" he asked.

"Stupefy!" murmured Harry, but Lestrange was no stranger to duelling. He fired off a volley of curses that left Harry panting with exertion as he tried to dodge them.

"Afraid to use anything dangerous, are you?" Lestrange taunted. "Afraid of hurting me?"

"That's what makes us different, Lestrange," sneered Harry. "Although I didn't mind offing old Bella.'

Lestrange's face grew hateful.

"Crucio!" he yelled, but Harry was already moving.

"Where's your master, then?" he shouted. "Doesn't he want me for himself?"

"He'll come when he's ready, brat," sneered Lestrange.

As he was talking, Harry wordlessly summoned a rock from behind Lestrange and it soared into the Death Eater's head, rendering him unconscious. Sparing no time to feel victorious, Harry turned to survey the battle. The Elves had joined the fighting, their long range weapons effectively taking out the Dark Lord's creatures.

"Where are you?" Harry muttered, staring around. Already, the grounds were unrecognisable. Harry ran further from the castle, moving deeper into the battle. His shoulders ached from where the beast's claws had pierced the skin, and he worried that they had contained some kind of poison. Looking ahead, Harry felt a stab of horror as he saw Remus fall to the ground and he ran forwards.

"Remus!" he yelled. The Death Eater who had felled Remus turned, grimacing. A long gash across his chest attested to the fact that Remus had not fallen easily.

"Conveo!" yelled Harry, catching the Death Eater off guard. The Death Eater went spinning backwards, hitting the ground with a _thump_. Harry started towards Remus, his heart pounding fearfully in his chest, but before he could get there, a vague sense of satisfaction washed over him and he halted. With a regretful last look at Remus, Harry began running, stumbling slightly on the writhing vine as he clambered around the body of a giant. As he ran, something hot and burning hit him in the back, but he rounded the body of the giant and his pursuer did not follow. Instead, Harry focussed on the wizard ahead of him.

**oOoOo**

Snape had never dreamed that one day he might, in his service to the Dark Lord, be required to attack Hogwarts. He supposed it had always been a possibility, but he had always thought that he would withdraw before things got that bad. Recently, though, things had gotten bad very quickly, and Snape's feet had been swept out from under him. He'd been carried along by a force stronger than himself and things had happened on their own and here he was, wand raised against a member of the Order.

Curse to kill, the Dark Lord had said, but leave Potter for me. But Snape didn't like killing, and he didn't like spying. He didn't like being betrayed and he didn't like not being able to see his daughter. He didn't like being a Death Eater who skulked in the shadows and did terrible things, and he _hated_ Voledmort.

Snape shielded himself from an attack and cast a weak stunner at Emmeline Vance. She fell to the ground, but he was confident that she would awake within a few minutes. Snape moved into the shadow of a giant's body and disillusioned himself, eyes darting about the battle field. There were bodies, many of them already, lying scattered about, and Snape saw that many of them were Order members. He didn't take the time to see if they were dead, however; he was looking for Potter.

Unable to see the boy from his current vantage point, he glided around the base of the giant, kicking away the rampant vines that reached out snaking tendrils for him. It took a while before he finally found the person for whom he was looking, but when he did he was grateful that it hadn't taken him any longer.

The Dark Lord appeared to have gotten there before him, and… _Merlin_, but that boy could duel! Even when he'd duelled Snape in Defence he had not seemed so graceful. He made it look so easy. Voldemort, too, was a sight to behold, spinning and whirling in a swirl of dark colours. Even from this distance, Snape could see that both were injured. Voldemort's movements were becoming slower, jerkier, and he appeared exhausted. Snape suspected that as much of their battle was mental as it was physical. All around them, Death Eaters and Order members alike were struggling in vain, distracted and disarmed in their attempt to watch the boy and the Dark Lord.

Snape gripped his wand tighter and prayed that Harry Potter really was the Chosen One.

**oOoOo**

It hurt so much. Harry wanted nothing more than to stop, but that was not an option. If he stopped now, he would die. If he died, Voldemort would be victorious. If Voldemort was victorious, others would die.

Harry felt Voldemort's rage and hate far more at this moment than he ever had in his life, and he found himself continuously reminding himself who his enemy was. Nagini lay on the ground between the two of them, dead. Voldemort had killed her when he realised that she was no longer a Horcrux. The additional piece of soul within Harry was larger than he had expected it to be, and he found himself fighting desperately to keep control of his own body.

Harry was so focussed on Voldemort that he blocked everything out.

Slowly their curses began to grow further and further apart, and suddenly they stopped completely. Neither was willing to waste their energy on vain attempts at disabling their opponent. Harry took the moment to focus his attention inwards and restrain Voldemort's soul.

Voldemort grinned maniacally, though Harry saw (or felt, he wasn't sure) a glint of worry in his eyes.

"Losing the battle, Potter?" he whispered.

"No," spat Harry.

"But you will," hissed Voldemort. "You know I'm stronger than you."

And suddenly Harry began to believe him. He began to doubt that he could do this. Voldemort's voice became curious.

"Tell me how many Horcruxes you have destroyed," he demanded.

"Does it matter?" Harry asked with a glare.

"As a matter of fact, Potter, it matters a lot. Tell me how you did it. Tell me how you managed to transfer my soul into your body. Such a thing should not have been possible."

Voldemort's eyes gleamed in anticipation of Harry's answer; he was genuinely curious.

"You made six, didn't you?" Harry questioned, but Voldemort didn't answer so Harry went on. "But you don't know where, or even what the sixth one is, do you?"

Voldemort's eyes widened fractionally, and Harry gave a cold smile.

"Well, I do," he said, and Voldemort fidgeted. Harry took a step forward. "And guess what I also know," he prompted.

Voldemort looked like he dearly wanted to ask, "What?"

"I'm sure you recognised the mark I gave you," he said.

"The mark of V'Ardian," said Voldemort, and then a breath later, "You know who he is."

"I _am_ him," spat Harry. Voldemort's red eyes flew wide in surprise, but then he laughed.

"You jest, surely, Potter. You would never have done any thing to help me."

"I can assure you that it's the truth," said Harry, preparing again to duel. Voldemort laughed again.

"Oh, the irony!" he hissed. "The saviour of the wizarding world is not as pure as everyone thought him to be. I'll ask you again, Harry, but this will be the last time – join me!"

Harry closed his eyes instead of replying and thrust out his magic. He heard Voldemort's body fall to the ground as Harry's magic rammed into him, and Harry plunged forward before he had the chance to do anything. He forced himself into Voldemort's body, and his scar burned in response. The Dark Mark boiled on his arm and he knew the scar on Voldemort's face would be doing the same.

_Thrice marked, thrice linked, thrice bound._

Harry tried to act against Voldemort's magic, but the part of him that was Voldemort fought against this action, and harry found he could no more destroy Voldemort like this than he could destroy himself. Harry flew back into himself to see Voldemort lying on the ground before him. He felt immensely drained, and cursed himself for not concentrating when a Death Eater fired a curse at him. The Cruciatus Curse struck him and he fell to his knees with a cry. Through the haze of pain, Harry saw Voldeort sitting up and reaching for his wand…Harry raised his own and drew a deep breath…

**oOoOo**

People had told him often enough that eyes were windows to the soul, but Snape had always dismissed it as rubbish. Now, though, he was forced to re-evaluate that belief, in response to the pure evil that was pouring out of Harry Potter's eyes. The Dark Lord's body was sprawled on the ground, clearly dead. The moment the words of the Killing Curse had left Potter's mouth, something had happened, something that Snape had never seen before.

The Curse had struck the Dark Lord and he'd fallen, but Snape was quite sure he hadn't died. His eyes had flashed red for a moment and then Potter's had flashed red. Now Potter bent to the ground to pick up the wand that had fallen from his hand the moment it had happened. He twitched slightly, as though he couldn't quite decided what to do. He didn't look at the body on the ground before him. Potter had held the wand up to his face as though to scrutinise it, and he'd given a strange smile. When he'd turned, Snape had known that the time had come.

When Potter saw him, his eyes were green, but there was such a malignant presence behind them that Snape knew that more than one soul inhabited the body. His eyes had flashed red for a second, and a cruel smile twisted his face as his gaze landed on Snape.

A flicker of pain passed across Potter's face and then the eyes were green again, and they stared calmly into Snape's own. Snape felt strangely afraid. He saw Potter twitch slightly, and it was the only outward sign of the fierce battle that must have been going on within his mind (or his soul, or whatever, Snape thought).

"Now, Snape," Harry said suddenly, and Snape raised his wand.

His hand wavered ever so slightly and he cleared his throat that suddenly seemed tight. He reminded himself that he held no love for this boy.

"Avada Kedavra."

**oOoOo**

**A/N: I did intend for this to be the last chapter, but I had to leave it there, I couldn't help it. I was somewhat disappointed at this chapter but I/m getting a bit sick of writing this story. It's just gone on too long. Thanks for everyone who's stuck with this story, and thanks for the reviews – Wujjawoo**

**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Epilogue**


	39. Epilogue

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 39**

**Epilogue**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

**oOoOo**

The Hogwarts grounds, from the castle steps to the gate, were devastated, unrecognisable from what they had been just a few hours prior. The only sign of life was the group of people standing in the centre of the destruction, and their presence attested to their triumph.

"Is he dead?" asked one of them, staring at the body in the centre of the circle. None of them dared approach him.

"I saw the curse," said another. "It hit him."

"Who cast it?"

The first person nodded to a second body, not far away.

"He did."

"So he's dead…they're both dead…"

The first person ignored the proclamation.

"When I saw what he'd done, I stunned him."

Someone snorted.

"Why? He's done us all a favour."

Some people looked at the speaker, aghast.

"Wake him up," the speaker continued. "Let us speak to him."

Someone knelt beside the prone figure and rolled them over onto their back.

"Ennervate."

**oOoOo**

Snape's eyes snapped open, and he closed them again immediately as they were assaulted by the bright sunlight. It seemed that the dog soldiers had taken their storm elsewhere, no longer under the Dark Lord's control. He heard muttered whisperings surrounding him and sat up, recognising the voices of Order Members.

_Thank Merlin_, he thought. _It's all over_.

"Stand up," said a sharp voice. "Slowly. We have your wand."

Snape snorted, turning his eyes on the speaker.

_Ah, of course._

He realised that they didn't recognise him. To them, he was just a faceless Death Eater. He looked around the circle to see many of them staring sadly at another body.

Well, maybe not just any Death Eater, then. The Death Eater who had murdered Harry Potter.

The Auror who had awoken him was talking again, telling him to stand up and remove his mask. Snape stood up.

"You fool," he spat, and removed his mask. "Was it you who stunned me?"

Of course the man would have had no idea who he was cursing – knowing he was a Death Eater had probably been enough – but Snape was still irritated. There were a few gasps from the surrounding witches and wizards.

"Are you sure, Quentin?" asked one, whom Snape did not recognise. "Are you sure he's the one who did it?"

"Yes," said the one named Quentin, his face paling slightly. "He's the one."

Snape glared around, seeking an ally, but only hostile faces met his gazes. Minerva was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Minerva?" he asked shortly.

"Oh, don't think she can protect you, Snape," said Moody, stepping forward. "You've killed Potter, we all saw it. McGonagall won't be able to help you now."

"Where is she?" demanded Snape. "I will speak only to her; I have nothing to defend to any of _you_."

"Well I dare say you do," said Quentin. "Half of us are Aurors after all, and you're a Death Eater."

"Think whatever you like, _Auror_, but I will say nothing more until Minerva McGonagall is present, is that clear?"

Quentin stared at him mulishly before sneering.

"Very well, Snape. I dare say she'll be back any moment."

"Oh?"

"She's gone up to unlock the school. No sense letting the children worry."

Snape thought briefly of Katherine and prayed that the Death Eaters had not managed to breach the castle. From his position the castle doors were obscured from his view, so he asked Quentin.

"There's some damage," he admitted, "but they didn't get in. Most of them fled when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named died."

"Really?"

"Should have left when you had the chance, Snape. You should have known we wouldn't let you get away a second time."

Snape sneered, but before he could say anything further there was the sound of running footsteps and five children burst into the circle.

"Harry!" screamed one of them, spotting his body.

"What are they doin' out 'ere?" asked someone, and then, "eh, isn't that the Malfoy kid? Wots 'e doin'?"

"Is…is he dead?" Snape heard Ronal Weasley ask tremulously. They five seemed unwilling to approach the body. Snape met Katherine's eyes and shook his head slightly, and she turned away from him.

A moment later Professor McGonagall burst into the circle as well.

"I apologise," she gasped out breathlessly. "I was unable to keep them."

Her gaze flickered from Harry's body to Snape's face.

"Oh my," she murmured, shocked. "Severus?"

"Minerva. Send the children along if you may. I would prefer they did not witness this."

Professor McGonagall looked at the five students, who now stood grouped around Harry's body. Snape felt a stab of guilt as he saw Emily crying, Katherine's arm about her shoulders. The Granger girl wasn't crying, but she gripped Wealey's arm so tightly that he suspected she would be, soon. McGonagall looked back at him and stepped closer. When she spoke, her voice was lowered.

"They're here now, Severus. Let them mourn."

The look upon her face changed from one of sadness to one of confusion.

"Severus, what is going on?"

"He killed Potter, Minerva, that's what's going on," said Quentin obnoxiously, and his voice was loud enough to carry over to the students.

"Minerva, get this _infernal_ man out of here," he hissed, gritting his teeth and looking stubbornly away from the children.

"Is it true, Severus?" asked Professor McGonagall in disbelief. "Harry said that you hadn't – that you weren't…"

"Yes, well you never did trust him, did you?" asked Snape snidely.

"You don't deny it?"

"I did kill him, Minerva," he replied quietly.

"Good Lord, Severus. How could you?"

"You _what_?" came a voice from Snape's left, and he looked over to see Ronald Weasley staring at him, his face pale with anger and his hands clenched in fists at his side. "You lying bastard! Harry trusted you!"

As Snape listened to Ron's words, his gaze drifted away, searching out his daughter's. She was staring at him, her expression confused and reproachful. He saw that she was crying.

"I killed Harry because he asked me to," he said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. He swallowed past a painful tightening of his throat as Katherine turned away from him and knelt by Harry's side. Snape heard murmurs of disbelief passing through the crowd.

"Everone, there are things that need to be done," called Professor McGonagall, turning form Snape. "I will deal with this situation. The rest of you are to begin searching the grounds for anyone who might be alive." She turned to Quentin. "His wand, Mr Braithwaite," she said firmly, holding out her hand. Quenting looked as though he might refuse, but handed over Snape's wand. "That will be all, Mr Braithwaite."

Slowly Quentin turned and walked away, a scowl on his face. Professor McGonagall glanced at the five students as she turned back to Snape.

"Tell me everything, Severus," she said tightly, so Snape did. He told her about how Harry had killed Albus, and how he had contacted the vampires and the elves. He told her how he had been destroying Horcruxes and merging the soul with his own. He told her how Harry had come to see him when she'd banished him from the school and what Harry had requested of him. He told her what he had seen after Harry had killed the Dark Lord – of how his eyes had flashed red and he'd struggled to maintain control. And so he'd killed Harry Potter, and it was as simple as that.

When he finished, Professor McGonagall stared at him, struggling to decide what to do. After a moment of hesitation she handed him back his wand, and to his surprise, folded her arms around him in a hug.

"This may not be the end of this, Severus, but this is my judgement. I believe everything you have said to me to be true, whether any of us want it to be or not. I have known you for a long time, and I know that even though you've done a lot of bad things in your time, you're a good man at heart. I've seen the trials you've been through and I'm proud of you."

Snape stared down at the older woman in mild shock, feeling extremely odd. No one had spoken to him in such away in a long time.

"I – thankyou, Minerva," he said quietly. "That means a lot to me."

She smiled sadly and turned to look at the grouped students.

"Let us go and see them," she said softly.

Snape followed her slightly hesitantly across the grass. It was a sort distance, but Snape was wary to cross it. He'd killed before, certainly, but never had he stayed around to see what became of the victim. Never had he felt for the victim what he did now – guilt, remorse, regret.

"Children," said Professor McGonagall softly, stepping up beside Draco. She looked oddly at Katherine, wondering why she was there. Snape moved around her and stood next to Katherine and she turned to face him. She looked up at him, her eyes watering, and Snape felt as though he were choking.

_You look so much like your mother_, he thought. He held out his arms and she fell into them, crying softly. He stepped back and grabbed her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him.

"If there had been any other way," he said softly, "I swear I would have done it. I'm so sorry."

Katherine sobbed and nodded slightly, and Snape pulled her close again, placing a kiss on her head.

"Severus!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall in shock. Snape could have smiled if the situation hadn't been so disheartening. He squeezed Katherine tightly once more and released her, but kept an arm around her shoulders as he turned to look at the headmistress.

"My daughter, Minerva."

Professor McGonagall gasped in shock, looking between them.

"Merlin," she murmured faintly. "I never knew…"

"I apologise, Minerva, but I d not think that now is the appropriate time for this discussion."

Professor McGonagall nodded, swallowing hard.

"Of course, Severus." She smiled fondly at Katherine, and then as one, their gazes turned to the sprawled body of the Boy-Who-Had-Lived…

**oOoOo**

**A/N: Mwahahahaha… I said this would be the epilogue, but – er…um…REVIEW! - Wujjawoo**

**Chapter Forty: Epilogue II**


	40. Epilogue II

**Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian**

**Chapter 40**

**Epilogue II**

Standard Disclaimers Apply

A/N: Alright. I quite like the way the story ended in the Epilogue chapter. If you did as well, consider this an alternate ending. If you didn't, then it follows on well enough. I had a hard time deciding what to do, because some of you liked Harry dead and some of you didn't. Personally, I prefer dead Harry. This is the last chapter, and I'm very glad to be done with this story. I don't think I'll go into the details of how Harry survives – use your imagination. Let's just say that the killing curse acted on Voldemort's soul and not Harry's… And if you think I just ruined it by telling you that he survives…well, you should have had a pretty good idea by now. And Greymalkin- Thanks for pointing out the mistake. I rarely make mistakes like that. And I do agree with you about your preferred ending. Unfortunately I already promised a happy ending because most of my other fics end sadly. Fortieth and final…just a snapshot of moments throughout the ensuing days..months…years…

**oOoOo**

Harry let out a great gasp, sucking air desperately into his lungs. He sat up, coughing, his eyes wide. It was a moment before he realised that he was on the ground, and that there were feet all around him. He also noticed that it was very silent. He looked up to see seven shocked faces staring down at him.

"Er…hi?"

**oOoOo**

"Well I think I _was_ dead," explained Harry again. "I mean, I definitely died…well, I can't be sure because I've never done it before, but…"

"Harry!" squeaked Hermione, looking scandalised. "This is no time to joke!"

"Sorry," responded Harry with an apologetic grin. "Can you blame me for being just a little bit happy?"

"Well…no, I suppose not."

"Good," he said, and then, "ouch!"

"Sorry, Mr Potter," replied Madam Pomfrey as he winced again. She put the bowl of ointment aside and placed the rag in it, having just spread it over the claw marks in Harry's shoulders.

Harry sat in his favourite bed in the hospital wing, surrounded by his closest friends and family. His nose was itchy, and he would have scratched it not for the fact that both Emily and Katherine had been permanently attached to his hands since he had arrived here. He sighed and leaned back into the comfortable pillows. Apart from feeling a bit drained, and having a few cuts, he felt perfectly fine, but Madam Pomfrey refused to let him leave the hospital wing.

Harry sighed again in happiness.

"You have no idea how _good_ I feel," he said. "I feel like _me_ again."

The five faces around him smiled as well, and Harry thought that he had never felt better.

**oOoOo**

"Hello, Professor," said Harry. Snape started, not having realised he was there yet. He looked up in surprise.

"Potter."

He seemed surprised to see Harry there. Harry moved forward to stand in front of the Potions Master.

"I wanted to thank you," he said forthrightly. "I couldn't have done it without you. And I also want to apologise, because I had no right to ask of you what I did."

Snape considered Harry for a moment before inclining his head.

"Thanks accepted," he said finally, "and apology too, if you will accept mine."

He held out his hand. Harry grinned and shook it.

**oOoOo**

_Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, is once again being heralded as a hero, as news reaches the world that he has once again destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. While Mr Potter was unavailable for comment, witnesses say that the Dark Lord is indeed gone, forever this time. Minister for Magic Arthur Weasley has confirmed the rumours, saying that the battle which took place on Hogwarts grounds did indeed leave Mr Potter victorious. _

_There have been rumours that Mr Potter was killed by a Death Eater during the battle, but this has been discredited by a number of sources. Mr Potter is currently recuperating at Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry, where he is in his seventh year. He is expected to receive several prestigious awards, ranging from the Award for Service to the School to the esteemed Order of Merlin, First Class. Mr Potter is also believed to…_

**oOoOo**

"It is with great sadness that I watch yet another group of fine young people leave this school," said Professor McGonagall, her eyes suspiciously moist, "but also with great expectations for each and every one of them. A new era is dawning for all of us, and I know that all of you will leave your mark. I have watched all of you grow into wonderful people over the last seven years, and I have only one piece of advice to give you. Take every chance you have, if it means doing something right. Make the most of what you have and be thankful every day for the live you have been privileged with, because you never know when it might be taken away. I think that you of all people would understand this better than most…but I'll say no more on that. Congratulations to all of you. I couldn't be prouder…"

**oOoOo**

"I was thinking about what Professor McGonagall said, sir, at the Graduation Feast, and-"

"That was quite a while ago, Potter."

"Yes, sir, I know, but it really stuck with me. Things are calming down in our world now, and things are really starting to work out for me. And I was, well-"

Snape sighed and flopped down in a chair, staring up at the ceiling in exasperation. Harry couldn't decide if he was feigning it or not.

"Just ask it already, Potter. Do not make me wait any longer."

"Sorry, sir, but it's a bit hard for me…I don't really know what to say…"

"Hard for you! Merlin's beard, boy, if only you knew!"

Snape stood up and poured two glasses of wine. He held one out to Harry who took it in surprise and then moved to lean against the fireplace.

"You do not that it is _illegal_ for vampires to marry a human, do you not?" he asked Harry. Harry blanched, his eyes widening.

"No – Nobody knows. And sir, how did you know?"

Snape waved his hand dismissively.

"Do what you will, Potter. If I am to have half-breed grandchildren, then I would be proud for them to be yours."

**oOoOo**

"Oh, Severus, you do look good," fussed Mrs Weasley. Snape bent low to accept a kiss on the cheek. "Are you ready for this?"

"As I'll ever be," grumbled Snape, though his voice was light. Mrs Weasley smiled and bustled away. She paused in the hall to pick up a vase of flowers and continued on to the room around the corner.

"Oh, you look absolutely beautiful, dear," she beamed, entering the room. "Feeling all right? I remember my wedding day – you wouldn't believe how nervous I was – but don't you worry, Harry's a lovely boy…"

**oOoOo**

Ron smirked.

"What am I doing, Ron?" asked Harry, straightening his robes again. "And look at these things! Who would get married wearing these? What the hell was wrong with a suit?"

"Calm down, mate. You know you're really stressing too much."

"You still got the rings? I'm not stressing. I'm just – You wait till you and Hermione get hitched, and then see how you like it."

Ron's face paled a bit.

"Me and…Hermione…get…married?"

Harry grinned.

"Sure. Just remember to make me your Best Man. Ron nodded fervently, his eyes wide as he stared of into the distance.

**oOoOo**

"You're beautiful," murmured Harry as he guided Katherine down onto the bed. He kissed his way down her neck, moving the strap out of the way. "You look great in white, Katherine…but this just has to go."

Katherine gave a contented sigh of agreement and slipped out of the long white dress.

They didn't get much sleep that night.

**oOoOo**

Harry smiled contentedly as he looked down at his sleeping wife, thinking that finally – finally – everything was right with the world.

**oOoOo**

**A/N: THE END!**

**A big thankyou to everyone who reviewed and everyone who followed this story through to the end. I really hope you liked it – Wujjawoo**


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